My trip to the 2005 Sport-Touring.Net National
Since its inception, I have attended every sport-touring.net national rally that has been held.

On top of being the computer operations manager for my department, I am also a student finishing up a B.A. at the University of Florida. I am supposed to graduate this summer, but in order to do that I need to take courses in both summer A and B. This years rally was held in Montrose, Colorado on June 22nd and 23rd, which fell smack dab in the middle of the break between the summer A and B terms, and I was not going to make this year the first year I missed the meet.

My last final for the summer A term was held on Friday the 17th at high noon, so my departure would be delayed until after the exam was completed. Because I knew there would be some high mileage days needed to make the round-trip within my alloted time frame, I decided I needed to break up the monotony of the road with a diversion. The Team Strange 21st Anniversary World Tour provided a perfect diversion.

The basic rules for the Grand Tour are that I must stop at various different cities, one per state, and the first letter of the city should help spell the phrase TEAM-STRANGE AIRHEADS, and then find a Highway 21 in an unused state.

Highway 21 in Florida is about 15 miles from my house, so that was one of the first ones I knocked off the list. I've also gotten letters in Kentucky, Tennessee, and Georgia from a previous weekend excursion. That left me with 16 or so letters, and until October to complete the phrase, and the route I planned would allow me to pick up thirteen cities towards the Dave McQueeney award. Besides, I figured as hectic as my work and school schedule have been, I'll need someone to come to my house and mow the yard.

June 17, 2005

After getting through Montgomery, I worked my over to Selma along US-80. Selma was one of the crucial locations during the civil rights movement in the 1960s. In 1965 some 600 civil rights marchers headed east out of Selma, towards Montgomery along the same route I had taken. The civil rights marchers barely crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge, which leads into Selma, before they were beaten and attacked by the local "lawmen".

My journey over the Edmund Pettus was quite a bit less controversial, but I found the ride along U.S. 80 to be interesting nonetheless.

At Selma I got an S, but unfortunately the Selma Post Office makes it difficult to prove the location by only listing the city and state on the door of the building. I got creative though, and used the reflection in the door to prove my bike was there without the use of a trailer.

I don't own a car (or truck, or van), but even if I did, I couldn't understand why someone would trailer their bike in a scavenger hunt.

After grabbing the photo in Selma, I headed into Missississississippi (hey cue a Fish Called Wanda and my name is K-k-k-k-ken). I took I-20 to the bustling metropolis of Newton, MS where I promptly got an N.

As soon as I hopped off the bike to grab the photo, I threw away the hookup cord which connects my starcom to my helmet. I'm not really sure what I was thinking at the moment, but in retrospect it probably meant it was time to call it a night, and that's what I did. I figured for the rest of the trip I could just use the PS-2 extension cable I routed in the bike to extend the socket anyway.

With my N in hand, I went and checked myself into the nearest hotel and called it a night. It was 9:30PM EST (all future times will be in EST), and I had just finished 537 miles and two letters.

A lot of negative stuff had been piling up in my life, and I could feel it starting to slip away. The road is good that way.

Saturday, June 18

When I first started planning the route, my plan was to stay with him in Jackson, but after the accident, while he was convalescing in Asheville, I forgot about it. When I realized that he was going to be in Jackson while I was riding through, I decided to pay him a visit at the rehab center.

The only problem was when I left Gainesville, I still hadn't found out where he had been moved into. However, I had the phone number for a friend of his who also lives in Jackson named Mark, and I made arrangements to meet up with Mark for breakfast at the Pearl Cafe in Pearl, MS.

The Pearl Cafe is one of those small town southern diners that are just a jewel when you find them. It's one of those places where the good old boys gather around for coffee and jawing on any given Saturday morning. There were about seven or eight guys sitting around a table talking about politics, or whatever, but when I walked in decked out head to toe looking like a First Gear advertisement, they became very quiet and began to eye me suspiciously.

After the waitress came out and took my order, they seemed to loosen up a bit and resumed their conversation. Mark showed up while I was enjoying my eggs, and after we both finished he took me to the rehab center.

I spent an hour or so visiting with Mac, and his spirits seemed pretty good. He's going to be in rehab for awhile, but he wants to ride again so he's motivated to get working on it.

I left Jackson around 9:30AM and continued on I-20 West towards Ruston, LA for an R. While leaving Jackson I hit a bump on I-20 and the starcom power lead jiggled loose. When I stopped for a break I was able to fix it again, but it was still intermittent until Sunday morning when I was able to do a better fix on it.

From Ruston I took 273 into Arkansas, and I stopped in Hope for an H.

As you probably know, Hope is the hometown of Bill Clinton, who if nothing else was one of the most interesting presidents we've had in the last fifty years. People either love him, or hate him, and I'd bet if he could run again he'd probably get elected to a third term.

Hope seems like a pretty friendly place. The gentleman who took my photo apologized to me for the heat wave, as if he had any real control over the weather. I appreciated his sentiments though, but I explained that living in N. Central Florida heat becomes one of those constants you get used to.

After leaving Hope I went into Oklahoma and caught the Oklahoma Turnpike up towards I-40. I then continued west on I-40 until I got to the exit for Tecumseh where I picked up a T.

After I left Tecumseh, I made my way to Oklahoma City and managed to negotiate my way through traffic to the site of the Oklahoma City Memorial right as the sun was beginning to set. I pulled out my 35MM camera and took a few photos of the memorial before hopping on my bike and making a run to a Days Inn on the west side of town.

While at the hotel I checked with a friend of mine, Sean, who was also headed to the national with his father. They were about a day behind me in Missouri, but we made tentative plans to get together somewhere out west.

I went to sleep with 738 miles for the day and 1275 for the trip. There were lane closures on I-40 around MM 170 which slowed down traffic, but I had a pretty good day for only about twelve hours of riding.

Sunday, June 19

I actually had a moment or two of doubt about whether I would be able to complete the trip, but I popped a few Advil and drank some coffee. I also spent ten minutes fixing the electrical short in the power lead to the starcom.

While enjoying the continental breakfast I struck up a conversation with a guy named Dan from Nashville. He and his wife were just starting a five week trip, beginning in Santa Fe, which is supposed to end at the BMW MOA rally in Lima, OH. He was on a KLR, and his wife is on an F650GS, and it sounds like they're going to have a ball.

Since they mentioned they were heading to the Colorado area anyway, I invited them to the national in Montrose.

After a nutritious breakfast of a donut, two cups of coffee, a glass of OJ, and a bagel, I hopped on I-40 and worked my way west towards Albuquerque, with a planned stop in Adrian,TX. Once I started moving my sinuses cleared up and I started feeling better.

The weather in Oklahoma was pretty lousy. Even though it was only 8:30, or so, when I got on the road, Oklahoma was hot, humid, and windy. I really began to appreciate the effort it must have taken to live in a sod house on the plains of Oklahoma before the invention of air conditioning..

About seventy miles east of Amarillo, I stopped at a rest area to answer a call of nature. When I got off the bike I noticed several signs which said, "watch out for snakes." I've never seen a sign like that before... The scenery at the rest area was pretty, so I broke out the 35MM and shot some photos of the prairie.

Texas is an odd place. In Groom, TX, they're proud of the largest cross in this hemisphere, but I was more impressed with their DQ sign. In Conway, they have gift shops which advertise that they have live rattlesnakes you can play with.

Odd place indeed.

I made it to Amarillo around noon, and it was really starting to bake. I grabbed a large Gatorade and water, poured some down my gullet and the rest into my camelbak.

Ten miles, or so, west of Amarillo is a monument to Americana, the Cadillac Ranch. I had no idea I would be passing it on this trip, but because it's always been in my "if I get the chance to see it" file, I pulled over when I caught a glimpse of it from the interstate.

The Cadillac Ranch has ten cars planted in the ground in the middle of nowhere. It is one of those "whacky things" that only a few people could appreciate.

I am one of those people.

I stopped at the ranch and pulled out the 35MM camera and shot about half of a roll of film at the ranch. A visitor to the ranch who was tagging one of the cars allowed me to get a photo of him doing his work. After about thirty minutes, I was ready to hit the road.

In what is really a tragedy to American Nostalgia, the old Route 66 (U.S. 66) has been absorbed into I-40 through Texas and New Mexico. But it still exist for little stretches, mostly for only a few miles at a time, entering and leaving small towns. I decided to go ahead and get my kicks, and I stopped in Vega for lunch. After lunch, I continued on to Adrian,TX where I got an A.

When I crossed into New Mexico I began thinking about some of the great American literature. More specifically I started thinking about the Grapes of Wrath. I suppose the combination of wind, dust, and heading west on Route 66 made it happen. In an amusing coincidence, someone else who made it to the rally mentioned thinking about the same book.

In my case, I started thinking about the Joad Grandmother, who died of exposure. Thank god for Gatorade...

I stopped in Santa Rosa, NM for gas, and met a guy riding a 2005 FJR. Those blue ones sure are pretty.

At any rate, he was on his way home to Houston from a rally in Las Vegas, NM. We chatted for about fifteen minutes before going our separate ways.

While riding along I-40, Eastern New Mexico is a lot like Western Texas, boring and scrubby. However around MM 250 the scenery starts getting better. Mesas, red rocks, and vermilion outcroppings dot the landscape. But they're still few and far between..

I made it into Albuquerque around 5PM, and worked my way to the University Post Office where I got another A.

Right next to the post office was a used book store, and they had a table with books for $1. I picked up two, but the shop was closed with a sign saying they'd be back by 3:30. So, I slid $2 under the door, and one of my business cards with a note explaining which books I'd taken and to email me if I owed more, then hopped back on the bike and took off.

I had some time to kill, and I knew that Monday would be a "down day" so that Sean and his father could catch up. I rode over to the Petroglyph National Monument, and then found a Super 8. When I checked into the hotel I had ridden 558 miles for the day, 1833 for the trip. The road closures on I-40 were in New Mexico between MM 305-300 and 275-265.

Monday, June 20

I left the hotel bright and early, around 7:30AM. I took I-25 north to Bernalilo, and stopped for breakfast at the worlds most efficient Mickey Dicks. After breakfast I continued on 550 towards Durango, CO where I got a D.

The morning air was quite cold in the desert, and I was pissed at myself for not wearing my heavy gloves. However, I knew it would be warmer in the afternoon, and catching the sunrise in the Zia reservation more than made up for the discomfort of the cold. The red mesas glowed as they were struck by the first light of the day.

After gassing up in Aztec, I continued onto Durango and got my D. I then worked my way west on 160 to 140 South, and followed that to 574 back to Aztec.

When I returned to Aztec, I stopped at the Aztec ruins, which are really Anasazi ruins. I hiked the trail then made my way back to 550 headed towards Chaco.

There are two entrances into Chaco, a northern entrance off of 550, and a southern entrance off of 57. I took the northern entrance, which consists of 5 miles of asphalt and then 16 miles of dirt.

The dirt road (7950) was heavily rutted in some parts, and quite sandy in others. I started out doing between 35 and 40 until I hit the first very loose sand patch, and then decided going slower was better.

When I was half-way through the road I came across a guy using a plow to smooth out the road. The problem was that in order to pass him, I had to cross over a furrow of sand he left in the center that was about 18" deep. I worked my way through the sand, got around him, then worked my way through only getting caught in the loose sand once.

Even with the road conditions, I still managed to make it to the park about 45 minutes after pulling off of 550. Not bad, but I was starting to feel a little tired and my bike was close to over-heating. I checked into the visitors center, and took off for a little hike in the ruins. However, the combination of the head cold, the heat, and the altitude got the better of me and I decided to sit down and rest for a few minutes.

While getting ready to leave I ran into two guys on enduros who had come in from the southern exit. By their description, it sounds like that is the better way to enter and leave the park, but I decided to exit via the way I came. After running the loop through the park, I hopped back on 7950 and made my way towards 550. This time it took me 45 minutes just for the dirt, but I was proud that I made it back onto terra firma without spilling the bike once.

I refilled my camelbak with more water and Gatorade, then stopped in Cuba for gas. When I arrived back in Albuquerque at 6:15 it was 102F. Sean and his father arrived fifteen minutes later.

Total mileage: 508/2341.

My journal has this one note at the end: "Although I'm not really religious, anyone who doubts the existence of God needs to spend time in red rock country."

Tuesday, June 21

Not good.

We got a late start and left Albuquerque around 9:00AM. We took I-40 west to Gallup then US-491 north to 264. US-491 used to be known as US-666, but about two or three years ago someone got their shorts in a wad over having a highway with "the devils number" so we renumbered it.

Once on 264 we continued west to Ganado, Arizona where I got a G. 264 was interesting, running us up to about 6500' through some forests. I saw a coyote running along the side of the road..

After our photo op, we hopped on 191 north to Arizona 59. 191 ran along the top of a ledge and was very windy. 59 ran through the middle of nowhere, but parts were quite pretty as we passed through red canyons and cliffs.

We took 59 all the way to the end, and then continued on into Kayenta where we stopped for lunch at The Blue Coffee Pot. We were pretty much the only tourists in TBCP, but the chicken salad sandwich was delic.

After lunch we went through Monument Valley, where Sean and I played a round of dueling cameras. With temperatures over 100F, it was really hot, but just when we felt like complaining we came across a group of bicyclists who were riding from San Diego to Atlantic City as part of the Race Across America. Heck, I figured if they could continue to sit there and peddle, the least I could do is work the throttle.

After Monument Valley we continued on 191 up towards Monticello. Just south of there we were stuck in traffic as there is road construction at the "Devil Overpass". While in traffic we met two guys from Arizona, Rodge and George, who were also headed to Montrose for the ST.N national. Rodge was on an ST3 and George a K1100RS.

We chatted a bit, and then when traffic opened up we stayed as group. However, in Monticello they pulled off to get a room while we worked our way up the Abajo mountains to the Canyonlands Overlook.

After the Abajo, we worked our way to Moab. When we arrived in Moab I decided I needed to find a drug store and get something for my chest cold. I also wanted to make an appointment at a clinic to make sure I was healthy enough to continue the trip.

I picked up some Robitussin caplets because I wanted the expectorant, and made an appointment at the clinic for 8:40AM local time the next morning.

We managed to get the last rooms at a Super 8, and I picked up an M before we had dinner at the Poplar Place. I had the lasagna and a Guinness, and it was as good as I remembered from the last time I breezed through Moab.

Mileage: 485/2826.

Wednesday, June 22

Because we had time to kill, we decided to hit 128 as the sun was rising. I rode with Sean and Pat (his dad) for the first 25 miles, then I turned back so I would catch my appointment while they followed it to I-70.

I arrived at the clinic a few minutes early, but I used the opportunity to fill out the various forms that doctors invariably have for you. I explained to the doc that I was about 2000 miles from home, on a motorcycle, and that I intended to be home by Saturday.

She said that my chest sounded clear, and that it seemed like the Robitussin had done some good. She offered to write me a prescription for a steroid, but that in her opinion I was probably over the worst of it and as long as I paid attention to myself I'd be fine for the return trip.

She also recommended taking Wednesday off, just to give me a day to catch some rest, and she warned me that I may have a relapse shortly after arriving home just from the exertion. I told her we were only heading to Montrose, and then I would take the rest of the day off, and she said good.

We left Moab around 11:30AM (EST), and headed south to 46, which we took to 90, then 141 to 145 to 62 and finally 550. The 46/90 combination was really fun, with some nice switchbacks around the state line. 141-145 were OK, but it rained on us for about ten minutes. 62 was absolutely gorgeous, and we stopped to get a few photos. Once we were on 550, we got stuck in traffic, but we still managed to make it into Montrose by about 3:30 (EST).

I got to meet up with some old friends, and make some new ones. I put some faces together with screen names, and had a beer. I had dinner again with Mary and Mike, and made plans to have dinner with them next year in Virginia. Then, I sat in the hot tub in my room for fifteen minutes, then went to bed.

Total mileage: 220/3046.

Thursday, June 23

I headed east on US-50 towards Gunnison. Aside from a brief stretch where 50 is now a dirt road, approximately 5 miles east of Montrose, the route was perfect. I passed through the Blue Mesa area as the sun was rising and caught one of those perfect sunrises you're lucky to see.

In Gunnison I stopped for breakfast and talked with a few people who were doing Ride the Rockies. After breakfast I spoke briefly with one of the staff and asked if it was a tour, or a race.

"Well, it's a tour. But some people just can't help themselves, and to them it's a race."

Because it was getting cool, I decided to put my jacket liner on and continued west on 50 over Monarch Crest. The elevation might have been high, but the view was perfect.

Before I got to Canon City, I saw a woman painting landscapes along the Arkansas River. I stopped and asked her if she minded being a subject for me, and she agreed, so I shot about half of a roll of film.

The canyon which she had turned into a studio was stunning, red rock walls with green vegetation covering everything. Afterwards, I continued on 50 east towards Canon City.

By this point in my trip I had forgotten about how some people can be assholes, but while I was getting gas I was reminded that not everyone is pleasant. Oh well, I wasn't going to let a dickhead ruin my trip, and I shrugged his comments off as I continued towards Salida and Pueblo.

The route from Montrose to Salida is quite pretty and hilly, but from Salida to Pueblo Colorado becomes a prairie. There were lots of deer along the prairie, and in Pueblo I saw military jets performing maneuvers.

Outside of Pueblo I hopped on 96, which crosses from Colorado into Great Bend, Kansas. Within fifteen miles of Pueblo there were four or five prisons on 96, but after that not a heck of lot else. There was very little traffic on the road, and I started playing a game of counting how many minutes it took before I saw another vehicle.

Most of the time I saw a car within three minutes, but I hit ten minutes at one point.

In Colorado I also saw a large number of cyclists with their bikes fitted with panniers and/or trailers. They looked like they were doing a cross country trek, but they were spread out too far to be part of the same group.

While riding through this region my mind was able to visualize how the prairie must have looked, with bison running free, even just 150 years ago.

Crossing into Kansas was a night and day experience for me because although eastern Colorado had the same flat grasslands, it lacked the wind that Kansas had. The wind was horrendous, it blew my face shield up several times, and kicked up dirt and dust from all of the farms reducing visibility.

I stayed on 96 into Great Bend, then hopped on US-56 to 150, and eventually made my way back onto US-50. I took US-50 into Emporia, where I got an E.

I stopped for dinner, then called my wife Sandy, then Sean and Pat to let them know I was alive, and then my friend Josh to confirm our plans to get together Friday night. After dinner I took I-35 to Ottawa, Kansas where I got a room.

Although I still felt great, I decided to get to bed early because I knew I had a long day ahead of me.

Mileage: 751/3797.

Friday, June 24

I followed 35 up to 435 to 70, and pulled into the Post Office around 8:30AM (EST). I then hopped back onto I-70 headed towards St. Louis, and what would be my last post office of the trip.

On the trip east, the sky was incredibly hazy and bright. There was quite a bit of dust, which helped increase the glare and even with my sunglasses my eyes hurt.

Due to lane closures on I-70 in Missouri (MM 50-54, 62-64, 190-195), it took me about four hours to arrive in East Saint Louis, IL. I got my E, and while packing my bike back up a very well dressed gentleman asked if I was lost and needed help.

He told me, "Whenever I see anyone like you, I make sure they know where they're going and not lost."

I appreciated the gesture, and explained what I was up to. I showed him the pictures I had already taken, along with my flag, and he found it amusing. He then wanted to know I knew how to get back to I-64, and I showed him the GPS and explained it had good auto-routing.

He wished me luck, and I took off following the GPS as it took me on a tour through the neighborhoods of East Saint Louis. Everyone was exceptionally friendly, including the many women I met on the street corners who kept asking if I knew what I wanted.

However, they seemed to have me confused with someone named John.

"Hey John, do you know what you're looking for honey?"

At any rate, I made it back onto I-64 safe and sound, and started heading to Atlanta. It was about 12:30 (EST), and I had nothing to do with the fire.

About ten miles east of ESL, I-64 had a few lane closures which slowed traffic down. In the town of Mt. Vernon I hopped on I-57 headed south-bound to I-24. It had been four years since the last time I had ridden through Mt. Vernon, and I swear it's grown by a magnitude since then.

It was a very hot day, and the weather channel later informed me it was near record heat throughout rural Illinois. At the Illinois/Kentucky border I stopped in Metropolis for lunch. Damn, if I was two weeks early I would have caught the Superman Celebration too.

I-24 in Kentucky is longer than I remembered, but it still went by pretty quickly. Amazingly enough, I-24 in Tennessee looked more like Kentucky is supposed to than Kentucky did.

My timing, as always, was impeccable and I managed to arrive in Nashville at 5PM EST, on a Friday. I managed to enjoy rush hour, and then lane closures on I-24 headed to the Noog slowed me down even more.

I stopped for gas about 20 miles West of the Noog, and asked the gas station attendant about how long it took to get to Atlanta. She informed me about three hours, and I believed her rather than my GPS, which turned out to be a big mistake. I called my buddy Josh and told him that I would be in an hour later than originally planned, and well that decision screwed up my plans because when I arrived an hour earlier than expected, he was busy at Stone Mountain with his in-laws while I was sitting in the Cycle Gear parking lot with my thumb up my behind.

Rather than waiting for them to return for a few hours, and rather than trying to get directions to his wife's work, which involved riding into downtown Atlanta, going through eight stop-lights, passing a dozen shops, and taking about 3 lefts and two rights, to pick up a key to their place, I decided to check into a hotel and get dinner.

I found a Holiday Inn Express, which made me smarter by Saturday. And then I enjoyed a nice dinner at a Carrabas. My waitress was Sage, and she was very nice.

I ordered the steak and a beer, and it was good.

Mileage: 850/4647.

Saturday, June 25

As I made my way along I-75, the sound of my tires spinning against the asphalt made a melody.

Instead of my riding pants, I opted just for jeans today. Around Cordele a light rain started to sprinkle. Rather than stopping to don my rain gear, I let the water soak my clothes, cleansing me of the last bit of muck that had been bottled inside before I went on my trip.

As I crossed the state line, for once, Florida lived up to its namesake -- the clouds broke, the sun shone bright, and the sky was a brilliant blue. I arrived home shortly after 1PM, 4988 miles and 8 days after leaving the week before.

My ride was done.

Posted at: 22:38 on 27/06/2005   [ /travel ] #