You can't take it with you

We can't bring everything we'd like to. My trial run at packing provided some banal proof of that. Travel guides, for example, will have to stay behind. I will only bring one spare pare of jeans. You have to pare things down to what is essential.

But some of what is essential to us will stay behind, too. This will be the longest time I've spent apart from my partner, Adele, since we first moved in together 19 years ago. Colin will be leaving Glenda behind, and while they haven't been together as long, I know she will be on his mind for much of the journey.

One thing I'm leaving behind I hope not to return to: the 50 pounds I've managed to shed over the past four months. I'd like to say that I did it for this trip, but that wouldn't be entirely accurate. Still, sitting on a motorcycle for 7 or more hours a day is a lot more comfortable without all that extra weight! If only my jacket weren't so loose now.... Well, you can't have everything.

Reality, perception and packing for the ride

With updates to the bike and what to wear while riding decided, the next question is what bring to wear while not riding. If this were a run-of-the-mill holiday that wouldn't be such a big deal. Not enough room? Use a bigger suitcase. But it doesn't work that way on the bike.

I expect to bring a second pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a bathing suit (don't visualize!), a couple of shirts, some t-shirts, socks, underwear, and a pair of hiking shoes. Add to that spare contact lenses & solution, sunscreen, toothpaste, toothbrush, etc, glasses, spare sunglasses and a hat.

What to pack invariably extends beyond clothing & toiletries. I'll have water bottles, maps, blank journals, my camera, my laptop, my iPod, a roadside emergency kit, a first aid kit, bandanas (to be filled with ice and tied around the neck in the hotter regions we'll be riding in, where the 'official' high temperatures are expected to average around 38 C). I'll also have earplugs, hot weather gloves, rain gear, cold weather gear, a battery charger and a jerry can. (Not running out of gas this time, Badger!)

All this has to fit into my two side cases, my top case, my tank bag, quite possibly a backpack. Colin thinks we should add camping chairs, but I'm not sold on it at present. We'll play it by ear, and add them - and anything else we find we're missing - as needed while we're South of 49.

Details, details...

Once we'd begun to piece the route and timeline together, our minds began to turn to the other preparations we had to make. First order of business was making sure the bikes were ready.

For Colin, that meant buying a GPS, new Givi cases and getting his steering adjusted. He had already put new tires on a little earlier in the season, and had a number of adjustments made to his tuning.

For me, the Stuka had just undergone it's 80,000 km service in the fall, so it just needed minor tweaking, new tires and an increase in luggage capacity. I picked up a 52L Givi Maxia top case from someone advertising on Craigslist, which I was able to install myself. I took the bike into Shail's and had them put on a new set of Metzeler tires, as well as replacing the oil cap and o-ring, which had begun to leak.

With the bikes sorted, I wanted to fill a gap in the gear I wear while riding. I don't think anyone can underestimate the importance of wearing protective clothing on a motorcycle, there being so little between us and the road, the other vehicles, and all the other objects out there.

I decided that, in spite of the heat we'll encounter in the Southwest, I wanted to wear leather. There's nothing else that protects quite as well if you come off your bike. Yes, the point is not to do that, but you don't always get a choice. 

A couple of years ago, I was riding from Calgary to Vancouver with the Badger, when a bad patch job on the highway sent his bike into a terrible wobble in a blind curve. In under two seconds from the time the tar first grabbed and jerked his front wheel, I was watching in horror as his tail light disappeared over the shoulder in a cloud of dust. His bike entered the stand of birch trees at about 80 km/h. I thought for sure I'd find him dead. I quickly pulled off the road and dismounted, and as I was pulling off my helmet he emerged from the trees and climbed slowly up short hill beyond the shoulder.

Badger was lucky to have survived with 'only' a broken collar bone. But then, we make our luck. His helmet, jacket, gloves and kevlar-lined jeans literally saved his skin.

For this trip, I'll be wearing all leather gear (except, of course, for the helmet). It might get hot (but then, so would anything else), but at least I know if anything takes me off the bike, I've got the best chance possible of not being scraped raw.

 

In the beginning...

My original plan had been to ride East, rather than South. My good friend Scott (a.k.a., "The Badger") and I were planning to ride to Newfoundland and back. Unfortunately, that fell through because I just couldn't string 5 weeks of holidays together at one stretch. (One of these days, Badger!) Scott has since started a business, and is currently preoccupied getting that off the ground. Three weeks riding through mountains and deserts just doesn't help with that.

While planning that first trip, my good friend Colin decided to get his motorcycle license, too. And then, while at a motorcycle shop, ostensibly to buy a helmet and other riding gear, he saw and fell in love with his V-Strom. It's an excellent, sturdy bike, with phenomenal range (approx. 400km/tank). I'd been looking at them myself when I bought what I've dubbed 'the Stuka'. I love the boxer engine on the beemer - my first bike had been an old R65LS - but what really sold me was and is the shaft drive. I am inherently predisposed to unfussy, low maintenance vehicles, and the prospect of messing around with a chain every couple thousand miles just didn't interest me.

Colin and I began with the vague idea of riding down to Texas or New Mexico - or, since they're so close together, Texas and New Mexico. Over the past few months, we've added destinations, plotted possible routes, and put together an itinerary that will be challenging but very doable.

We'll start with Hwy 20 through Washington's Cascade Mountains, cut across the top of Idaho to Montana, take the Going-to-the-Sun-Road, and turn South. We'll ride down through Wyoming, stopping at Devils Tower, and make our way to Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. From there, we'll ride down through Eastern Colorado into Texas, stopping at Austin for a couple of days, then onto El Paso (queue the Marty Robbins!) before turning NW to New Mexico. We'll see Carlsbad Caverns, Los Alamos, Santa Fe and Chaco, then head back up into Colorado to see the old native cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde. After that, we'll head up to Moab, UT, and Arches National Park, then down to Panguitch or Kanab, to do some hiking in Bryce Canyon and Mount Zion. We'll turn NW again, and cut across Northern Nevada to Carson City or Reno, then over the mountains to California and up the coast through Oregon and Washington to home.

If anyone has any suggestions for places to stop, places to stay, things to see, detours that we'd be fools not to take, please leave a comment.

Preparations nearly complete

For the past few months, my friend and colleague Colin and I have been planning to ride our motorcycles from Vancouver, on the west coast of British Columbia, through a winding route through the Western United States. We've consulted paper maps, google maps, Colin's recently purchased GPS, and guidebooks. We've upgraded the gear on our bikes, the gear we'll wear, and put in some long days on the bikes in preparation for this.

Colin rides a '08 Suzuki DL650 V-Strom, while I'll be hitting the road on my '01 BMW R1150R. Colin's far more high-tech than I am, with GPS, heated pants, gloves and vest, compared to my paper maps, and cordless leather riding gear.

This is going to be Colin's first long trip, and my third, and so far longest, at three weeks. Three weeks doesn't sound like much, when you compare it with real road warriors like Neil Peart, Ted Simon, Ewan MacGregor or Charlie Boorman, to name only the famous. But it's the best a couple of geezers who work in insurance can do for the time being.

I'm keeping this blog as a live journal of our adventures, which hopefully won't be of the sort that suck while we're having them. What we're looking forward to is good roads, good hikes, good food and all around good times.

Over the next few days I'll be updating - backdating? - the preparations we've made. We're leaving in six days, and I hope to have lots to report along our way.