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Author Topic: Six weeks, a tent and a VFR  (Read 41959 times)
Cruz
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« Reply #300 on: December 05, 2011, 08:23:37 AM »
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Tomorrow ya say?Huh?Huh??? That reminds me of this sign..............







Is it kinda like...I'll see you in a "bit"  are you real are you real
« Last Edit: December 05, 2011, 08:25:04 AM by Cruz » Logged

 
fknflyn@73
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« Reply #301 on: December 05, 2011, 09:36:41 AM »
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I got that very same poster hangin' on my den wall  ----  along with "Ice Cold Beer Sold Here" ...  although I never touch the stuff myself  ! !   ......    Digging Deeper
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Sweat evaporates quicker than flesh heals, dress for the crash not the ride. ATGATT

My name is Scott and I play a VFR ! 

If you begin to hear ants screaming, gimme some of whatever you're takin'  !  


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G-Spot & KFC - Finger licking good. Is that to much info ?
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« Reply #302 on: December 05, 2011, 01:14:27 PM »
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its to cold to type. freakin weather man can kiss my Sidi boots.
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340KM - 211 miles further North than Olive.
Where Bears hump bikers named Aussie.
There are no sock nappers up here.
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« Reply #303 on: December 05, 2011, 05:35:43 PM »
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its to cold to type. freakin weather man can kiss my Sidi boots.
No chit..its cold as hell here too..ya ya not like it is there but trust me a 90 degree swing sux....I would rather sweat. I had FROST on the truck this morning..27 damn degrees for a low  BangHead BangHead and its gonna be that cold almost allllll week  BangHead BangHead mid week we get the heat wave....mid 30's for the lows  angry4

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Olive
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« Reply #304 on: December 05, 2011, 09:03:03 PM »
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Is it kinda like...I'll see you in a "bit"  are you real are you real

Yeah Kent, it is kinda like that.....  grumblegrumblegettinglostinflagstaffgrumblegrumblegrumble   laughing7
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« Reply #305 on: December 05, 2011, 09:26:31 PM »
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June 29 (Day 34/48)

Heading out of Albuquerque I headed west, careful not to “take the wrong turn at Albuquerque” Warner Brothers style. I had exchanged emails the previous night with Aussie and knew the travel plans for the rest of the group meeting up for BBB.

Wheatie and Gerrys02800 were already in Vegas with Aussie and Mudderduc. Road Rash Reid, RocketMonkey and his better half RocketD would be joining them in the morning and the group would ride out to Flagstaff. Nobody is quite sure what everyone was doing in Vegas – but as the saying goes, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”. Probably for the best. 

Cruz and Backdraft were heading up from Tuscon with plans to arrive in Flagstaff mid-afternoon. RRW and his better half Tuscan Girl were trailering up late in the day. I was the only variable because I had yet to decide if I was going to meet everyone in Flagstaff, or join up the following day in Telluride. It was almost equal distance for me from Albuquerque and I was still debating routes and where I would meet up with the rest of the crew.

Since Florida I had definitely found the warmer weather. It was interesting seeing how the land changes in relatively short distance as I have traversed the lower states. For a person who has spent their entire life living in Calgary, it seems decidedly odd to see alligators, turtles, snakes and armadillos make up the road-kill, or to see roads raised over the swamps of Louisiana as if the roadway was one continuous bridge, or to see the long expanses of brown and dead Texas, where the only sign of life is a tumbleweed crossing the road in front of you or the occasional green tree with a group of cattle clustered desperately underneath in a search for some shade.

The dryness caused fire departments across multiple states to put out fire bans because of tinder dry conditions. In Georgia I rode through the thick smoke of some well established forest fires, and while riding in Florida I saw quite a few signs warning of possible smoke from fires ahead. In Louisiana I noticed the trees clustered together in the median of the highway were very brown, and even the ground around them looked burnt. Ahead a bit of smoke was evident, but I didn't take note of it until I got closer and realized that the trees to my left were actually burning. It was neat to see the flames flickering around the trees, dancing yellow, orange and red seemingly innocuous. There was very little smoke, although the narrow tract of forest bordering the road was definitely aflame. Sadly I couldn't pull over to take a picture or to watch the fascinating spectacle. As the miles passed new sights and sounds continued to unroll in front of me as New Mexico gave way to Arizona.

For a while I traveled along the original Route 66, as it joined alongside the highway and meandered through the hills. When I was running along the main highway I encountered a lot of road signs advertising businesses that were trying to ride on the coat-tails of the legend of Route 66.  Of course I had picked up a "Route 66" motorcycling shirt in New Mexico as a souvenir of the ride.  Having little room on the bike my souvenirs to date had been limited to a T-shirt from a bike shop in Thunder Bay (courtesy of the manager of the bike shop in Thunder Bay that replaced my rear tire),a couple of small shells I had found on a Florida beach and a T-shirt from Roswell that amused me.

While traveling along Route 66 I encountered a few road signs put up by enterprising businesses that read “Root 66”. I cringed when I saw the butchered spelling.  The sad part is that I think this was a simple spelling error on their part... it says a lot about literacy rate. I mused on this as I rode. Misuse of words is equally prolific on my side of the border, and I still cringe every time that someone butchers a perfectly good language blissfully unaware of the damage they are perpetrating. It is really prevalent in social media – Awe instead of Aww or Ahh, the classic mix-ups of witch/which, then/than, sight/site, misplaced apostrophes... my inner “Grammar Nazi” (extra points if you catch the reference) could easily step up to the soapbox, but I sense some of my readers shuffling awkwardly and beginning to back away slowly maintaining eye contact as I segue into a discussion of language. Thus I will return to writing about the bike, rather than a diatribe about the misuse of a perfectly servicable language.

I stopped at a roadside pullout beside an Indian reservation.  The shacks were on reservation land, and the fence separating public land from the reserve ran along the front of the booths.  Signage indicated that it was not permissible to sell anything on public land. 





This sign gave me a few options of where to head... Decisions, decisions...



Some beautiful countryside around there!





Of course I had to stop to capture the Continental Divide on camera.



The landscape was dry and arid. The weather seemed a lot cooler in Arizona than the dry burning heat of Texas, or the moist humidity of Florida or Louisiana, although it was still significantly warmer than I was accustomed to.I passed a number of State Parks including Petrified Forest State Park and Homolovi Ruins. Along the route were a few other attractions including Meteor Crater, which were exploited as tourist traps. I bypassed Meteor Crater after discovering that $15 admission included the visitor center, access to a gift shop, a movie and three look-out points around the rim of the crater. That didn't seem like a very good deal, and on this trip I was watching my finances.



Arriving in Flagstaff, I stopped for gas made a brief phone call to figure out where to meet people. Cruz and Backdraft were at the Ramada Inn waiting for people to arrive, and everyone else was still on the road. From the emails I had exchanged with Aussie the previous night I knew that there were two Ramadas in Flagstaff, and I was looking for the Ramada Inn Grand Canyon West. Since I didn't have an address and there were only two options, I set up my GPS for the Ramada Inn on the west side of town. It was fairly easy to locate the hotel using the instructions from the GPS.

Arriving in the parking lot I noticed what was obviously a staff member, judging from the uniform. I thought my query was clear and straight forward leaving little room for misinterpretation. “Is this the Ramada Inn Grand Canyon West?”. The answer I received back was equally clear leaving little room for interpretation. “No.”. Obviously I had chosen the wrong Ramada.

I rode through the parking lot which didn't appear to have any bikes parked in it and doubled back, reprogramming my GPS for the other Ramada on the east side of town. I followed directions, up to the point that the GPS asked me to turn on roads that clearly didn't exist.  Unlike some users of GPS technology I am simply not willing to drive through a building no matter how insistent the prompts sound.

Despite being close to the planned location I didn't spot a hotel bearing the sign “Ramada”. There were quite a few other hotels, but clearly I had missed my target. I tried to circle around again with the same type of results. The GPS seemed convinced that McDonalds was actually the Ramada Inn in disguise by the way that it kept circling me around that restaurant.

Putting away the GPS, I pulled out my Blackberry and pulled up Google Maps. Tucking the phone into the plastic map pocket on top of my tank bag I attempted to locate the hotel, but the display kept on turning off and it was impossible to wake it back up through the plastic cover wearing gloves. I wasn't even fortunate enough to locate “East Lucky Lane” despite cruising roads that the map insisted it intersected. At one point I managed to cross the railroad tracks and take an extracurricular tour of Flagstaff, finally finding my way back to the general area where I expected to find the Ramada Inn.

By this point in time I was getting a little aggravated. I was hot, had been riding in circles within Flagstaff and knew that Cruz and Backdraft were probably beginning to wonder what had happened to me.  It was beginning to feel like Atlanta was repeating on me.

Finally circling further south than I expected the hotel, I spotted the sign Ramada as I passed it heading east on the wrong side of the road. I wasn't happy to realize that I had driven past the back of the hotel multiple times, however there was no signage on that side of the building. Pulling into the parking lot I looked for Cruz and Backdraft's bikes. I circled the building – still no bikes.

Pulling up in front of the lobby I walked in and verified that I had the right Ramada, although I had to wait for a while as the desk clerk shared the all important news about her new matching purse and shoes with the person on the other end of the phone.  While I waited I mused on the thought of the new form of customer service where the desk clerk treats everyone like an old friend, discussing haircuts, manicures and dispensing fashion advice about the best way to coordinate handbags and footwear.  Perhaps it was just that I was interrupting her coffee break, standing in the lobby wearing the latest hi-viz fashion. 

Finally she had a moment to spare for me.  I asked “Is this the Ramada Inn Grand Canyon West?” fully expecting an answer in the affirmative. The answer I received back didn't follow the expected script. “No. You want the other Ramada.”.

A little baffled I asked “How many Ramada Inns are there in Flagstaff.” The response was “two”. I was really not impressed realizing that I had been at the intended destination three quarters of an hour previous, and I had been crawling along in the oppressive heat at speeds where I couldn't get a breeze flowing through my gear for almost an hour for absolutely no reason. I started rethinking my assertion earlier in the day that the heat wasn't as oppressive as Texas as the sweat beaded on my brow and rolled down the sides of my face.

I doubled back across town and relocated the other Ramada. Riding through the same parking lot I didn't see any bikes, but as soon as I rode behind the hotel I spotted Cruz's RWB Anniversary and Backdraft's CBR sporting a distinctive sticker “no deer”. Parking beside them I realized that there was no easy way to determine which room they were in. I headed to the lobby where the clerk was unable to either tell me what room they were in nor phone the room because of privacy concerns. I thanked the clerk, perhaps with a touch of sarcasm, and walked back to the bikes.

I knocked on a few doors of units next to the parking stall, but nobody answered. I called Cruz's cell, and nobody answered. There was a certain symmetry to be found in this, but the humour was lost on me. My phone rang, startling me. It was Cruz – he and Backdraft had walked across the street to a sports bar, and were waiting for me there. They wanted to know if I had gotten lost, or simply taken a detour to Sonoita on the way down.  I hiked across the street and across the supermarket sized parking lot to finally meet up with the guys.

The guys were glad to see that I had made it, and we sat down for a bite to eat and caught up the way old friends do. After dinner we headed back to the hotel, gathering in Cruz's room until Aussie and the Vegas crew rolled in. A lot of familiar faces from BBB on previous years. It had been a long ride for the guys from Vegas, and an even longer ride for GSpot from Edmonton.  They were ready for a bite to eat so as a group we returned to the sports bar across the road.

As the evening began to dwindle there was still no sign of RRW or his better half. Rumour had it that he was still planning a late night arrival. We sorted ourselves out into shared rooms eager for the trip to Telluride the following morning.
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Veni, Vidi, Vroom
(I came, I saw, I rode away)
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skuuter
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« Reply #306 on: December 06, 2011, 08:22:33 AM »
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I take it that you are encouraging me to upload a couple of pictures and throw some text on the screen?   

Ok... Ok.... tomorrow.

YES WE ARE...!!!


.......... laughing7 laughing7 laughing7
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I LEARNED A LONG TIME AGO, BEST WAY TO REALIZE THE DANGER OF YOUR PACE IS WHEN IT GOES FROM THAT SPEED TO ZERO REALLY ABRUPTLY.....MIGHTA' BEEN FASTER THAN YOU THOUGHT.....SKUUTER

PEDALING IS SLOWER AND HEALTHIER.....SKUUTER

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