Aftermath

Just in case anyone is still reading this blather and wondering what happened, I thought I'd follow-up with the latest.

I took the van in to the shop and had her checked over. She got a clean bill of health! The trans seems to have survived the ordeal. They gave me a list of things that will need looking after in the future but it just had the usual stuff like brakes, tires, etc.

So it looks like we got away clean. The old beer-hauler and the old fart live on to party together another day!

Since my return I've been working diligently in the garage, trying to get things squared away. It's looking pretty good compared to what it was like previously.

Come hell or high water, it will be squared away this summer!

Took the Ural out a few times and am quite pleased with it. It has a lot of power and Susan rated the ride for the passenger as much improved over the old hack. She misses the windshield so I may build some sort of screen for it when I get the workspace set up in the garage.

It keeps coming back to that garage, huh?

This is the big tourist week here in Bandon, the run-up to the 4th of July, a big dog show and the annual fireworks show.

I like living in a town that people actually spend money to come to on vacation.

It makes me think I'm on to something.

Along with the other tourists, my sister, bro-in-law and their dog are in town.

It seems bro-in-law Tom took a liking to my old hack when I was staying with them down in California. So much so that he ended up buying a new one for himself. He's already put more miles on his than I have on mine!

So anyway, he brought his Ural along and we'll be riding the local roads for the next few days. We also have some off-road days planned so we can make sure the 2 wheel drive option works on our bikes.

His bike is painted in arctic camo which is black, gray and dirty snow color. It's really a beautiful paint scheme.

I guess I'll just keep this blog running until I run out of space or things to prattle on about. Right now though, the Margarita I had at dinner is putting me to sleep. That's what happens to old guys. One drink and ...plonk.

Thanks for reading...talk to ya later.... pictures to follow...

Some random pictures in no particular order.

Ashland, Oregon April 15, 2008. The start of my trip.

Fishing museum in Hayward, Wisconsin. This outboard motor was made in Russia and taken from a boat carrying Cuban refugees in the 60s.

A big fish.

This is where my wife Susan lived in Ontonagon, MI when she was in the 6th grade. Her grandfather owned the motel, it was named Shorty's Cabins.

A sample of trophys at an archery shop in Riley, Oregon.

My pal Tasha. She lives in Harriman, Tennessee. If anything happens to Ron & Kate, she'll be my dog.

The guard cat at Jake's Evil Lair in Texas. Don't let the look fool you.

Sign at a restaurant on Route 66 in Oklahoma.

Stats. AMENDED!

Holy Moley!

Here I am going on about being a wizard with spread sheets and I really screwed up. I had to add in some rows during the journey and forgot to add them into the formula!

So here's the lowdown for those interested:

total miles... 10,176 !!!!

total gallons... 505

total cost for gas... $1884.00

avg mpg... 20 mpg

So Brunhilda did even better than I gave her credit for.

I spent the day cleaning out the van, airing the bedding, etc. Also took a short drive around town and the transmission seems to be OK, no slipping or heating up. I'll take her to the shop and have a transmission service done to appease the gods of the mechanique.

I think I got away clean.

Some random thoughts and stats.

People ask me "How was your trip?" What can I say? My trip was just about dropping off one bike, picking up another and visiting friends and relatives. But as I lay around my house thinking about it, it was so much more.

How so? I'm not sure as I'm still processing all the data, but I feel there's some sort of underlying meaning to everything I saw. Or not. Who knows?

My old friend Larry M. from Grass Valley in California once advised me (when we were both working stiffs) to put all the data I could into spread sheets. I had just learned Excel and was having fun with lists.
This has become almost an obsession with me and I put some trip info into spread sheets. Actually it's pretty interesting.

total mileage....4, 170

gallons of gas used....232

total spent on gas ..... $1884.96

repairs and oil change .... $70.15

average mpg .... 17.97 mpg

highest mpg .... 24.61 mpg from Ontonagon MI to Clayton, WI (no trailer)

lowest mpg.... 13.55 mpg from Eureka, KS to Chelsea, OK (empty trailer and strong headwind!)

highest price ... $4.20 (in remote MI and OR)

lowest price ... $3.38 (AZ, MN, OK)

nights in motels... 13

total motel cost... $671

nights in campgrounds... 15

total campground cost...$292

It was too hard to keep track of food and odds-n-ends (like my cool hoodie from Hayward, WI) but I did manage to log in $350 towards meals.

I probably could have trimmed down here and there. For example, I didn't realize I spent so many nights in motels. Better planning may have cut that down.
But as my friend Victoria S. tells me, it's only money, living life is what's important. Guess I have to agree with that!

The one thing I'm really happy with is my van Brunhilda. She didn't do bad for an 18 year old ex-beer delivery truck. She never failed to start, stop or turn. She never leaked and everything (besides the AC) worked fine.

What can I say? An old fart in an old van and we both made it.

Soon as I get some more scratch together I plan to explore more of Oregon with Susan and the Merry Mutts.

...more follows...

The final run.

Leaving Wyoming, I got onto Highway 30 towards Pocatello, Idaho where I would get onto Interstate 86 for my run across the southern part of the state. The scenery is very pretty in a rugged way but there wasn't much to see from the Interstate.

There were some displays of the Oregon Trail at the rest stops that were pretty interesting. It was hard to imagine that I could cover in 2 days what must have taken months for the covered wagons. Plus I could stay in a motel instead of sleeping on the ground with a saddle for a pillow.

I passed a sign for Mountain Home Air Force Base at one point, which reminded me of an old Air Force buddy (whose name is long forgotten) who always talked about how great it was to be stationed there. Back in the 60s this must have been a small town indeed.

I wish I could have explored more but I didn't want to abuse Brunhilda any more than I had to. She was running fine and the floorboards didn't heat up as long as I stayed out of overdrive.

I passed a lot filled with military surplus vehicles but missed the exit and couldn't find my way back to it. Too bad. They had tanks and big troop carrier trucks all done up in various camo schemes. I wonder how much a tank would cost? Or what kind of mileage one would get with a troop carrier?

After a one night stay in Idaho I headed for the Oregon border and crossed over into Ontario, OR with a big grin on my face. When I spotted a small Bi-Mart store I knew I was back home and cheered!

I found Highway 20 and headed west across the high desert. It was beautiful through there. A small river ran along one side of the road and rugged hills on the other. The wind had died down and the sky was bright blue with puffy clouds. Best of all, there was very little traffic so I was able to cruise at 50-55 mph unmolested. I stopped often at pull-outs along the river just to listen to the water and birds.

I pulled into Riley, which is a store and a post office. Population is 3.

Highway 20 meets Highway 395 right there and I had always wanted to explore the area around 395. But again, I didn't want to push my luck with Brunhilda. Staying on the main road seemed like a prudent choice.

It was getting late in the day and the lady in the store said I could park in her campground for 5 bucks! I looked out and realized there WAS a little campground and outhouse. Done deal! The population would be 4 for the night.

I spent the evening drinking chocolate, sitting in the store talking to 2 teachers who had come into "town" for dinner (sandwiches.) They were closing down the school for the summer and needed a break from the cafeteria food. The store owner made me a microwave burger and we had a great time.

After the teachers left, I hung out with the owner swapping tales about life and how it always throws curves when you're expecting a slow ball.

She had led a very interesting life and she and her husband were now raising their grandson. The husband had an archery shop attached to the store/gas station/diner full of stuffed animals and skins.

It was cold during the night and there was ice on my windows in the morning. I woke up just before dawn, opened the sliding door and watched a beautiful desert sunrise from the comfort of my sleeping bag. I finally forced myself out of my cocoon and got back on the road.

It was 0530 and the sky was clear as a bell.

I headed into Bend which I had visited in the 80s. Back then it was a small town with ice cream parlors and sporting goods stores catering to the skiers in the winter and mountain-bikers in the summer.

But all good things pass and I was dismayed to find myself in rush hour traffic in some big city that didn't even resemble the Bend in my memories.

I filled up with $4.00-something gas and got out of there as fast as possible, going south on Highway 97.

I turned right at Highway 138 which runs up to Diamond Lake then down into Roseburg. Traffic was very sparse so I was able to cruise and admire the BIG trees and snow-covered mountains. I even spotted snow still under the trees. Twice I had deer run out in front of me.

I had to stop a couple of times for cat-naps but made it to Roseburg then over the mountains to the coast. Brunhilda was running fine and when I pulled into Bandon there was a fine drizzle coming down.

We made it!

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Wyoming, the working man's state.

I wanted cooler air and I got plenty of it in Wyoming! It felt great to put on boots, long pants and a hoodie.

Like they say, be careful of what you ask for. I got cool air but it was blowing in my face at 20-30 mph.

I made it to Gillette, which is famous not for razor blades but for energy. That's energy with a big E. The town was filled with motels and they were all full. Lots of government cars and oil company vehicles filled the lots which meant this was a town feeding at the government trough and did not bode well for my budget.

I didn't feel like camping in the storm. The vision of me wading to the bathroom in the middle of the night while hail and lightning crashed down around me convinced me to seek warmer shelter.

I bypassed the motels that had a bar next door, hoping for some peace and quiet. (Of course, back in the day that would have been my first choice but time changes everything, even me.)

I eventually found a place where the owner gave me a break. He could see I wasn't a high roller so only hit me for 80 bucks (or about half a tank of gas.) The other places in town were $100-200 a night, he pointed out.

He put me upstairs where I had a window that faced the plains and mountains so I left the curtains open and watched the spectacular lightning show. The storms were really violent and the NOAA kept coming on warning of tornado watches. I hoped my van and bike would be there in the morning.

In the morning the storms had blown past and I checked on the sidecar. It had water in the tub but was otherwise OK. I sopped it up with a towel as best I could figuring the high winds would dry off the rest.

I had to change my plan to continue on I-90 to Seattle because the weather was pretty bad in Montana and northern Idaho, so I called my buddy Larry R. back in Bandon. He's from Wyoming so I asked him how to get home.

His recommended route would drop me back down to I-80 at Rawlins, then onto Highway 30 into Idaho. Off I went into a driving headwind.

As I headed southwest towards Rawlins, I reached over to pick up something on the floor in front of the passenger seat and found it was hot!

I pulled over and looked under the van but didn't see anything unusual. The van's mileage was up over 177,ooo miles at this point and I figured the combination of 18 years of use, headwinds, ethanol fuel and trailer weight was taking a toll on the old 4 speed automatic transmission. I had been driving in Overdrive (or 4th gear if you will) as much as possible and now I noticed it was slipping. It seemed to be OK in Drive so I pushed on. I knew the old war-horse wouldn't let me down.

I stopped a lot to let Brunhilda cool down and got to chat with a few folks along the way. My biggest impression is this is a woking-person's state. And I mean the kind of workers that wear coveralls, have mud on their boots and callouses on their hands. They drive big trucks fitted with mechanical robot-looking attachments and do incomprehensible things out in the wilderness whether it's raining or shining.

It seemed like a tough life around there, but nobody is belly-aching about it. They just do it.

I made it to the aptly named Rock Springs KOA that evening after a grueling drive. The whole campground was gravel and there were trailers parked in every space. Even the Kamping Kabins were full.

In the morning I realized what was up. The whole place got up early and went to work. Then a school bus came through picking up kids. It seems the KOA is full of people who live in trailers. I imagine because they can't afford a house. It looked like there was just a handful of travelers like me.

Next to me a motorcycle pulling a trailer was camped. The trailer opened up and made into a cool tent that had a space in front where you could stand up straight and had the sleeping area under a sloping cover. It looked pretty cool but I wonder how good it would be if you couldn't find level ground?

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South Dakota. The Mount Rushmore State.

South Dakota is the home of the famous Mount Rushmore and the even more famous Wall Drug Store. I'm sure there are plenty of other things to see, but if you are on the interstate, the signs lead you to believe otherwise.

I stopped in Mitchell to fill up the gas tank and to get a look-see at one of the recommended sights, the Corn Palace. Here's the official story:

"The original Corn Palace, called "The Corn Belt Exposition" was established in 1892. Early settlers displayed the fruits of their harvest on the building exterior in order to prove the fertility of South Dakota soil. The third and present building was completed for it first festival at the present location in 1921. The exterior decorations are completely stripped down and new murals are created each year. The murals are designed by local artists, Oscar Howe having been one. New materials are applied to the building with each mural depicting an important facet of the lifestyle of South Dakota. These murals require thousands of bushels of corn, grain, grasses, wild oats, brome grass, blue grass, rye, straw and wheat each year."

I glanced in awe at the edible building wondering how many cats it took to keep the mouse population down, if the corn popped on really hot days and if deer snuck in at night to eat the facade.

It seemed the present mural is in honor of "American Heroes." As I drove by I saw depictions of police and firemen among the heroes.

Now don't get me wrong, I think those guys have a tough job that I would never do, but I feel the label hero is being used fast and loose in this country. A hero used to be somebody special, not just any joker in a special uniform...sports or otherwise.

If you ask me, a real hero would be the guys driving garbage trucks. Imagine getting up every day before dawn and dealing with that job.

Just think what our world would be like without them!

The thing that really impressed me about Mitchell was the price of gas. I had entered into $4.00 a gallon territory.

Oh, one other thing I liked was the gang of young hooligans buzzing around town on their 3 and 4 wheeled ATVs. It seems it's legal to drive them on the streets there. In the winter they drive snow-mobiles around town.

Now that's some real forward thinking by the local politicos. It makes far more sense to drive an ATV around town than a gas-sucking, 2 story 4X4 SUV.

I wish they'd wise up in Oregon and let us do that. Just think, it would mean more jobs (the politicians' holy grail) for ATV builders and a lot more fun for me.

As I progressed along the interstate, dark clouds with lightning flashes started brewing up ahead on my left and right. Feeling like Moses parting the waters, I progressed down the middle, staying dry.

The next big attraction was Wall Drug. They have billboards for hundreds of miles around and people around the world have taken to putting up signs showing the distance to Wall, SD and the free ice water they advertise.

The famous Wall drug turned out to be Fisherman's Wharf set in the middle of a boundless parking lot. I managed to see the sign rising above the tops of the masses of parked SUVs, while the drivers wandered the sidewalks telling each other where to find the cheapest gas in town.

I pressed on.

The next attraction was the Badlands and Mount Rushmore. As I drew closer, the clouds grew blacker and the lightning more spectacular. When I got to the turnoff, I was in a rainstorm that was even more violent over the famous Mount. "Catch ya next time." I said as I pressed on, crossing into Wyoming.

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On the Interstates.

The first night, I made it to Harrisonville, Missouri which is just south of Kansas City. They promised fast internet but it was painfully slow and I was unable to even get my email. The AC worked great though so I cranked it all the way up. I guess it was more the humidity than the heat that was getting to me.

I walked over to one of those new (new to me anyway) fast-food places where they have Taco Bell, KFC and Burger King all in one place. The conflicting smells made me feel a bit woozy so I got my tacos to go.

One funny thing, there was a farmer in line next to me who was a dead ringer for the actor Robert Duvall! Even his mannerisms were pure Duvall. I could hardly keep a straight face and I'm sure he was wondering what the hell I was grinning about. I kept thinking it could have been Duvall doing some research for a part.

Back at the motel I checked the weather channel and saw tornados and thunderstorms moving through Nebraska and golf ball sized hail in North Dakota, but it looked like I could make it up to South Dakota and across on Interstate 90, so that was the plan.

The next day was a steady slog along the interstate through Missouri and Iowa, broken only by reststops, thunderstorms and lots of road construction.
It seems since that bridge collapsed in Minnesota, every bridge in the midwest is getting worked over.

I crossed into South Dakota and stopped at their "Welcome Center." The lady there gave me a bunch of tourist info along with the free state map and gave me the low down on all the tourist sites along I-90. If I had stopped to see everything, it would have taken days to get across the state.

Unfortunately, gas prices were rising every day and I was bucking a strong head wind which, coupled with pulling the trailer, was reducing my gas mileage. I was really wanting to just get back home.

When I got tired, I started looking for a motel or campground. I found a great motel in White Lake, SD. The owner was friendly, it was super-cheap and they even had a couple of wild cats roaming around the property. It was pretty much out in the boonies so all I had was cable TV.

I tried sitting out on the porch to watch the sunset but mosquitos drove me inside where I watched the RFD channel (Rural Free Delivery...an old addressing system the American post office used to utilize.)
And guess what was on? "Jolly Joe's Polka Hour!" From the look of the dancing couples, it looked like they may have been playing down at the old folk's sanitorium. There was one 40 year old blonde, dancing with the old guys, who was probably somebody's grand-daughter.
Even though I had no partner, I joined in, dancing in my underwear. It was a fine show and a good time was had by all.

I checked the weather and it looked like my luck was holding. I was dodging the tornados and most of the worst storms. All I had gone through were smaller rainstorms.
I sort of wished I could see a tornado but figured it would be better not to. I had seen the clouds roiling around and that was scary enough. I can't imagine what it would be like to see a funnel hit the ground and start heading your way.

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Oh air conditioning, where art thou?

After a few hours of heat I realized I had to get cooler! I took off my t-shirt and dug out a pair of shorts which I hadn't worn since moving to the coast. The sun was relentless and I soon sported a sunburn on my left side and my left knee.

I spotted a Wal-Mart in one town so I stopped and bought a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of those sandals with velcro straps. The shirt was loose and airy but covered my burn spots. I covered my left leg with my hat, put on my shades and pushed on to the promise of cooler air.

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The run for home.

I got into Bonnerdale and picked up my bike! It looks great. Mike did a great job on it.
But the weather was so hot and humid I felt really wrung out. (Makes me wonder how the hell I made it through 2 years in south-east Asia. I guess I was a couple of years younger back then.)

Anyhow, after loading up it was afternoon so I decided to get into some air conditioning, plan my route towards home and get a fresh start in the morning. I checked into the local motel where the owner recognized me from my previous stay there a month ago and told me the rates had gone up $4.00 since it was now "high season." I guess my minor celebrity of being a repeat customer didn't warrant a discount.

I walked down to the local Sonic Burger and did some carbo-loading for the ride home.
I'd never seen them before but Sonic Burger is all over the south and they actually have carhops. There's no place to sit inside but all the ones I've seen have a patio set-up so you can eat outside. They also have great pineapple milkshakes.

Back in the motel, I turned the AC on high and sweated through the weather channel report. Bad news! The route home through Texas, New Mexico, etc. was experiencing records high temps in he 100s. No way was I going that way!
There were also tornados and thunderstorms passing through the midwest, but the northern states like South Dakota and Montana promised cool temps.

I had been watching gasbuddy.com whenever I had an internet connection and noticed the states in the middle of the country had the cheapest (relatively speaking, of course) gas.

My plan was to go north to the Washington coast to see my brother-in-law in Bellingham so I had to break my cardinal rule and backtrack a bit.
It looked like if I went north on I-29 to Sioux Falls then west on I-90, I would be able to dodge the tornados and hit some cooler air up there.
Remember, my van has no AC, which is no big thing out on the coast but I was to find out how much it was worth.

I awoke in the morning to find all the bug bites I had been accumulating in various campgrounds were itching like mad. On top of that, the temp was already higher than the hottest summer day in Bandon and the humidity was making me sweat even while I was in the shower.
I loaded up, turned on the 55X2 AC (Americanism for rolling down the windows) and headed back the way I had come.

Even with all the distractions, the drive along the back roads was great. The scenery in the woods and the small towns along the way was a knock-out.
I managed to navigate my way through Fort Smith this time without ending up in Oklahoma and got onto the Interstate heading north.

My original plan was to wander the back roads and get in some bike riding while using campsites as a base but that was all changed now. The "perfect storm" of rising gas prices, tornados and a seriously over-extended budget was coming together.

I had to make a run for home.

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Back to Bonnerdale.

I spent 3 wonderfully lazy days in Faribault, Minnesota with my brother Clyde and his partner Deb.
Clyde took me around to see the sights and to see the plant where he does consulting work, then we spent the rest of the time eating Deb's wonderful meals (dynamite ribs!), telling family stories and watching TV.

We were invited to their neighbor's house one night and sat out in the backyard around a fire ring until a thunderstorm finally opened up on us.
(A tornado actually touched down north of us but we didn't know about it until our brother Ernie called from California to ask if we were OK.)

I can't get over the fact that Clyde is 70 years old. He looks 40, acts 30 and went back to work after retirement because he can't sit around.

It was great seeing them.

I got an email telling me the bike was ready so Tuesday I headed down I-35 to Arkansas. I don't care for Interstates but I figured I could cruise in the granny lane at 60 mph which gives me the best mpg.

Nothing much to see or report on along the Interstate, although I have to give highest marks to Kansas City for the easiest transit through town. Everyone seemed to drive at the 55 mph speed limit and the roads were clearly marked. It was smooth sailing as I sang Van Morrison's song, "Excuse me, Do You Know The Way To Kansas City?"

In contrast I give Fort Smith, Arkansas the lowest rating. Although I was wide awake and trying to stay on my route, I twice ended up in Oklahoma heading west! The signs were confusing and traffic was heavy.

I stayed in a motel in Missouri so I could see the finish of a 2 part sci-fi series, "The Andromeda Strain" which I had started while at Clyde's house. It's a great remake of the old movie.

When I got to Arkansas, I camped at a KOA (Fayetteville?) through a hot muggy night. That kind of weather wears me out so I spent the night in a stupor. About 0200, my aging kidneys woke me up and I had to trek over to the bathroom. When I got back to the van, I decided to sit out a while in a nice cool breeze and look at the stars. As I sat there I saw a bright light come on over the treetops. It stayed on for about 5-10 seconds then went out. Immediately after that, a second bright light came on to the left of the first. Then a few more followed the pattern, all in a small area of the sky over the treetops.
Along the Interstate, I had noticed a lot of tall towers on hills which were probably cellphone towers or the like. I figured there was a cluster of these towers and maybe they were testing the aircraft warning lights they have on top. But usually those lights rotate or blink. These went on steady and were twice as bright as I would have expected.
In the morning, I scanned the area with binocs and there wasn't a tower in sight.

(Cue theme music from "The Outer Limits" here.)

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