Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Post Scooter Cannonball Run thoughts

Well, I've had my time to unpack and unwind from the Scooter Cannonball Run 2008, and tomorrow it's back to the grind once again. I still haven't had time to go through my pictures and upload them, but I'll get to them soon. In the meantime, I have some thoughts to share about the Cannonball, in case anyone would be interested.

First of all, I'm doubly convinced that there's never enough preparation you can do in regard to navigation, and I still didn't do nearly enough for this Cannonball, which cost me quite a bit, especially on day two. Next time I'm definitely getting a GPS, I just hope that they'll make one by then that I actually like. Once again, I didn't use a GPS for this Cannonball, although my iPhone frequently did come in handy. For the most part though, I navigated using a paper scroll with the directions on it, which was mounted on my mirror post inside a plastic box which is used for enduro races. That way, I could see the directions and scroll through them as I worked my way through the route each day. However, I should have prepared my route sheets before the Cannonball started and had them all ready to go on day 1, it was a real pain to find printers along the route, when I had to make my route sheets as I went. A few times I had to re-write them by hand, which was harder to read while riding. I do like the setup though, so I may well use it for other rides.

Another subject is tires. The Heidenau K58 rear tire on my Vespa wore through within 2000 miles, which is 2 to 3 times faster than I had anticipated. I suspect that the compound of the tire is softer and designed for cold, wet conditions, so it's not as able to withstand the heat and friction of long distance, high speed, high temperature riding, such as through the Nevada and Utah deserts. Also, the large grooves in the tread pattern translated into a higher pressure per square inch where the tire met the road, which would have generated more friction and heat as a result, which contributed to wearing down the tire faster. And last but not least, the extra weight of carrying a spare tank also took a toll, especially because it was set so far back, behind the rear wheel, increasing the downward force on the rear tire. By the time I got to Fort Scott, KS, it was just about fully bald down the center of the tread, so I had to swap it out for my spare, but that one was well used and probably had only 1000 miles or so left on it, so it was unlikely that I'd be able to finish the Cannonball without buying yet another tire. Luckily, Vespa St. Louis had a Sava 130 in stock, so I mounted that one on my rear wheel - at least it wasn't a Cheng Shin! ;) It did fine for the rest of the trip, so that worked out well. What I should have done was mount a set of Heidenau K61 street tires, 130 front and 140 rear, as well as carry a backup set of a K58 140 rear and K66 130 front in the support truck, in case of rain. It's easier to change both wheels with tires already mounted, than it is to change a tire on just one rim, while on the road. Plus it's extra insurance, since it's feasible to run a 130 on both the front and rear, so the second spare could also serve as an additional backup for the rear, in case it may be needed.

The belt and variator are another subject that has been of concern to me. Next time, I'm definitely starting with a fresh belt and carrying an additional new spare belt with me, along with a variator tool and torque wrench. That way, I can be fully self-sufficient in case of a belt or variator failure on the road. It was definitely a good thing that I had my J. Costa variator with me as a spare this time, since my Polini had begun to self-destruct by the time I got to Garden City, KS, which was maybe 2000 miles since it had been installed. The rollers were totally flat as well, since they're made of a very soft material. This particular variator is apparently designated as "for race use only", and it certainly would appear that it isn't cut out for long, grueling road rides. The J. Costa is infinitely more durable and the slider weights are much more long-lived, so it's far better suited for a long-distance ride like the Cannonball.

The oil pan gasket was another common are of trouble during this Cannonball, at least four bikes had problems with them. This gasket is made out of a very flimsy, thin strip of paper, with a thin bead of silicone along the middle of the strip on either side. Theoretically, this should create a very good seal between the aluminum surfaces of the oil pan and the engine case. However, in real world practice, this gasket is very easily distorted and is prone to tearing. According to Rolf, those gaskets used to be made of a much thicker, sturdier gasket material, so that they would keep their original shape and maintain a good seal. I think I might write to Piaggio to share my thoughts on this one, in the hope that they might be willing to change the design to make it more reliable.

I was very happy with my Corbin seat, it did a great job of taking care of my backside, although I think I might add a thin layer of cushioning or possibly gel, to help soften it up a bit and keep the bumps in the road from being quite so jarring. The stock Vespa suspension just doesn't do that great of a job, and unfortunately Fournales does not make a set of air shocks for the GTS yet - I sure hope they have plans to produce them though, that would be a huge seller for them. The modified Fournales P200 front shock that Rolf installed on my bike performed terrifically, and I really wished I had a set for the back to match.

Let's see, what else is there... there were a couple of things that I really began to appreciate during the ride, which apparently are difficult to find outside of California: fresh spinach, toilet seat covers, smoke-free bars and restaurants, a distinct lack of rednecks, to name a few. I did miss having Internet connectivity some of the time, although I was usually too busy to worry about it. AT&T's service proved to be pretty consistently awful throughout the west, although it did get better from St. Louis eastward. One of the most glaring screw-ups was the fact that in at least two or three places we stayed, the AT&T towers provided a time signal in CDT, when we were still in PDT or MDT. How lame is that? I can't wait until the iPhone is available on other carriers in 2010, so I can drop AT&T and their pathetic excuse for a cell phone network.

Also, I was very impressed by how many of the roads, even in far out of the way places of the country, are maintained in such great condition compared to our roads here in California. We have some serious problems if we can't keep our roads in better shape than Massachusetts or New York, when we almost never have to deal with snow, salt or ice. Even worse, California has the highest gas taxes of just about any state in the nation, which are supposed to be used for road maintenance, yet these funds are continually diverted to the general fund or other pet projects that have nothing to do with transportation year after year, and the resulting road maintenance shortfall takes its toll on our tires, suspension and spines day after day. What do we have to do, to hold our government's feet to the fire, to ensure that this money is used for its intended purpose???

Well, I think that pretty well covers most of the thoughts I've had about the Cannonball, aside from the fact that it was am amazing, grueling and fantastic adventure, and such an amazing way to see this country, from one coast to another. I definitely plan to be there again in 2010, wherever the route may take us!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Cannonball day ten: Oakland, MD to Ocean City, MD

Well, if the previous day started off on the wrong foot for me, then the last day started off as a comedy of errors. I woke up just after 7:00 when Patrick called me to ask if I was awake, which I wasn't - apparently I had the volume turned way down on my cell phone so I didn't hear my alarm go off, and Kieran had left super early, and I went right back to sleep. Well, at least I was awake after Patrick called (thankfully!), although I had missed the riders' meeting by then. I had to forego a shower and quickly threw my things together, so that I could load my gear on the truck. Not only was I running late, but many people were leaving early, because the plan was to meet at the ferry across the Potomac by 11:00 am, including Rolf in the support truck, who wanted to hit the road by 7:30.

I went back to my room to gather the rest of my things, load up the bike, and get gas. However, I was famished and I had to have something to eat before heading out, so I decided to just stop at McDonald's for something quick. I wolfed down a Bacon Egg & Cheese Biscuit and an Egg McMuffin, while sucking down a Rockstar, then made a quick pitstop, before going on my way. I was actually on the road by 8:00 am for the first time in the trip, but by then everyone else had split, so I was still picking up the rear. It just seemed like that was bound to be my lot for the trip, but I still had just enough time to make it to the ferry in time, as long as I kept up a good pace.

In my haste to leave, I had left my jacket liner in my bag, which was on the support truck, and the early Maryland morning was filled with chilly foggy air, around 50 degrees, so the start of my ride was exceptionally uncomfortable. It stayed that way after I crossed over into the West Virginia panhandle and it just did not seem to want to warm up at all. Not wanting to lose time and risk missing the ferry, I kept riding with my lightweight gloves and kept putting my hands in front of the radiator grilles to warm them up, rather than stop and swap them out for my cold weather gloves which were under the seat. I figured if maybe I came to a stoplight, a construction zone, or some other roadblock, that might give me an opportunity to swap my gloves, so I pressed on. Along the way, I saw Rob broken down by the side of the road so I slowed down, but he gave me the thumbs up to keep going, so I did. His bike conked out with irreparable mechanical problems, which is so unfortunate, so close to the end of the Cannonball. Little did I know that my ride would come to a very abrupt halt very soon as well.

About 70 miles into the trip, roughly 10 miles before I was going to cross the Virginia state line, I felt something let go on my bike and the motor stopped unnervingly suddenly. My first thought was the memory of seizing my P200 on the last Cannonball, although I quickly recognized that this was a much less likely scenario with the water cooled 4-stroke motor of the GTS. I coasted to a stop at a conveniently located vacant driveway and tried to figure out what happened. When I hit the starter button, the motor wouldn't turn at all, and I only heard the clicking of the starter solenoid, so something was definitely wrong. I immediately called Rolf, but by that point he was nearly 100 miles ahead of me near Gaithersburg, MD and it was going to be a while before he would be able to make it all the way back to where I was, just west of Capon Bridge, WV. A dreadful sinking feeling began to set in, that my bike might not make it any further than that spot, and that my journey might have reached a premature end. To try to help alleviate my fears, I decided to check out the bike and looked inside the belt cover. I saw a whole bunch of ragged strands around the variator, and immediately I knew that the belt had shredded itself. This was actually a good sign, because I had a spare belt in Rolf's truck, from when my Polini variator had self-destructed earlier in the trip. It was used and worn, but hopefully it would be good enough to get me the rest of the way, so I could finish the last leg of the Cannonball on two wheels. I called Rolf back to let him know, and luckily he had a variator tool in the truck as well, so it was just a matter of time before I could get moving again.

While waiting for Rolf, I took off the belt cover to see what I could do in the meantime. Inside, I found a nasty snarl of shredded belt cords and rubber pieces, which had wrapped themselves around the variator. Thankfully it hadn't wedged itself between the clutch and the case, which would have locked up my rear wheel - that has happened to other people before and is equally as dangerous as a hard seize on a two-stroke. However, the resulting mess was quite a chore to clean up, several cords had gotten wrapped inside the clutch, which were very difficult to remove, although I was able to pull out most of the pieces, which allowed the clutch to move freely again. The variator, on the other hand, was locked up tight with the belt wedged between it and the case, so there was no way I could free it up and clean it out, without the tool to remove the variator altogether. I continued cleaning out bits and dust from the belt case as best I could, in order to make the best use of my time spend waiting for Rolf to arrive.

Eventually Rolf got there and we jumped into action, to make quick work of the repairs on my bike. I wasn't watching the clock, but I think we removed the variator, cleaned it out, reinstalled the variator and clutch with the new belt and got the cover bolted back on within about half an hour, and I was back on the road once again. Whew! I hadn't missed a mile of the trip so far, and I sure didn't want to break that streak on the last day. Everything moved along smoothly and Rolf and I got to the ferry just fine. We had quite a line of cars in front of us, so we had to wait for one ferry trip before we could catch a ride across the river, but thankfully it didn't take too long. The ferry ride was nice, although I was rather offended by the Confederate flag that was flying on the other side of the river. Didn't they lose that war almost 150 years ago? Last I checked there was still one United States of America, wasn't there? Anyway, after we crossed to the other side and continued down Whites Ferry Road, until we ran into some kind of art festival. This posed a problem, because the route I had plotted ran right through where the festival was going on, and the "detour" sign they put up only routed traffic away from the festival and didn't put us back on White's Ferry Road afterward. That was the last thing we needed, while trying to catch up to the rest of the group!

We meandered eastward and eventually wound up on River Road, which led us toward Washington DC. However, Rolf was getting really worn out, since he hadn't eaten anything since the night before, and I felt like I needed a break myself, so we stopped for a bite to eat at a "Chicken Out Rotisserie". The food was good, but the inattentiveness of the staff just made me really annoyed, by putting onions on my sandwich after I specifically told them no onions, then when they remade it, they apparently had run out of bacon, but didn't bother to even mention it to me. Whatever! I was just completely fed up at that point and just gave up about caring. We gassed up and decided that it was too late to meet up with everyone at Vespa Washington, so we opted to just take the beltway around DC, to pick up Highway 50 again and get in at a reasonable hour, rather than follow the official route, which would have taken us on a parade through the heart of Washington DC on a Saturday afternoon.

Aside from the obligatory jackasses on the road, we made it through the beltway ok and crossed over the Bay Bridge to the Maryland Eastern Shore, following Highway 50 to its eastern end in Ocean City. It was quite a relief, I finally felt like I was on the home stretch, even though there were still more than 100 miles left to go. However, shortly thereafter, Rolf got a call from Oz, who had broken down just east of there. We stopped and I agreed to press on while Rolf drove to meet Oz, since I felt pretty confident that my bike would be able to make it the rest of the way. I waved goodbye to Rolf as he turned left onto Highway 404, and I continued down Highway 50. Despite the fact that I was feeling fairly weary from the day's tribulations, the rest of the ride went smoothly. I took great pleasure in counting down the miles to Ocean City... 50... 36... 20... 10... I soon saw more and more signs of civilization and beach sprawl, which made my very excited. Making the left to leave Highway 50 for the last time and turn onto Highway 528 North got my adrenaline going and I hightailed it up Baltimore Ave, counting up the street numbers to the Days Inn at 22nd St. I whipped out my camera and snapped a picture as soon as I spotted it and I felt such a feeling of accomplishment and relief to have made it there. Although it hadn't felt like the Cannonball was nearly over just a day earlier, it sure felt that way once I got there. A lot can happen in one day of the Cannonball, and it wouldn't be the same if it didn't.

All in all, I had a great ride, but this year's Cannonball was overshadowed by Jim's spill in Utah, which left him more seriously injured than we had known. Thankfully, he is on the mend and and we've been keeping him in our thoughts to make a full and speedy recovery. I really wish he hadn't been hurt and that he could have ridden with us the whole way, I know he would have enjoyed it immensely. We missed you Jim and we all hope you'll be riding again soon!

Now that the Cannonball is over, I'll have some work to do, in order to pay off the bills from this adventure. I have a lot of stuff I need to list on eBay, plus a scooter to sell, or maybe even two, we'll see. Any donations would be gladly accepted too, of course! ;) In any event though, the Cannonball was an amazing, frightening, wonderful, awful, breathtaking, excruciating and eternally memorable event, which was quite the experience, quite unlike just about anything else. So, to answer the question, "why do you ride the Cannonball?", I'd say it's because it's something that can be done, although very few ever do it, so it's worth it to me, to be one of those few. This time I completed every single one of the 3400+ miles, through thick and thin, and it was worth it all. Call me crazy, but I'm looking forward to the next one already! :D

Cannonball day nine: Cincinnati, OH to Oakland, MD

Day nine started out uneventfully, but soon took an upsetting turn that really soured my mood for the first part of the day. After I awoke, I headed out to fill up my scoot and myself, but I had a hard tume finding a place to eat that was open at 6:15 in the morning, but thankfully I found a Perkins that was, and they did a fantastic job of fixing my dinner in a matter of minutes. After paying and leaving a generous tip, i hightailed it back to the hotel for the riders' meeting. After the details of the route had been discussed, I headed back to my hotel to clean up and get reasy to roll again. Now as tired as I was the night before, I didn't realize what an awful pit my hotel room was. The full horror became apparent when I went to take a shower. When I pulled back the shower curtain, I discovered black mold all around the shower, including a major colony all over the showerhead. That, plus a big black body hair on the shower wall told me that it hadn't been cleaned at all before I checked in, nor had the bathroom been cleaned properly in weeks, maybe months! There was more too - a fingernail clipping sitting on the dresser, a faint smell of urine coming from the air conditioner, and no washcloths were provided. I also hadn't been able to get their Internet connection to work on my computer the night before, and their pool was closed, which was the only reason why I reserved the room at that hotel instead of the main hotel where everyone else was across the street - those wouldn't have been so bad, but combined with the deplorable condition of the room simply added insult to injury. I lodged my complaint at the front desk when I checked out, but neither of the attendants at the front desk were willing to refund anything, since the room had already been charged the day before, even though the woman who had checked me in then said that I wouldn't be charged until I checked out. Of course the manager/owner was nowhere to be reached, so I had no choice left but to dispute the charge with my credit card and try to contact the manager the following week. I have every intention of lodging a formal complaint with Days Inn corporate as well, and send them pictures of the disgusting condition of the room they put me in. Hopefully they'll either put the hammer down on them or pull their franchise, so that no more customers have to suffer through the indignities that I did.

Thoroughly pissed off, I hit the road. I had a very hard time calming down after the awful experience, but eventually the road lulled me into a dull feeling of disgruntledness, from my previous incensed anger. The long straight stretches of central Ohio eventually gave way to more twisty curvy roads in the eastern part of the state, as the Appalachians grew closer. After crossing the Memorial Bridge to West Virginia, i took a detour off the Cannonball route to go see my good friends Kev and Julie from way back in the day. It was a real treat to see them and spend a little time catching up on the many days gone by with them over lunch. I arrived in town earlier than I expected, so unfortunately I didn't have a chance to see their kids, Andrew, Gabriella and Matty, who were in school at the time. All too soon, Kev and Julie had to get back to work, and I had to get on my way again. After a quick jaunt through Parkersburg, I was soon moving along the Robert C. Byrd Appalachian Highway System at a nice pace, enjoying the spectacular views of the hills in West Virginia. I passed Kieran again, for the second time that day, after he had pressed on while I had stopped to see Kev and Julie. After passing the next checkpoint, I opened it up all the way, to try and score some more points, after foregoing the previous section so I could stop to make my visit. I was making really good progress for a while, until I got into the twisties near the end of the ride. First, I got stuck behind a group of 20 or so slow-moving Harleys, for a good 25 miles or so. Thankfully their group pulled over eventually and I was finally able to pick up the pace again. However, before long, I caught up to two of our riders following their support truck at a very slow pace, about 35 mph in a 55 zone. It took a while before a passing zone opened up, after which I tried to make up some more time once again. However, my efforts were foiled once again when I got stuck behind a pair from Ohio, riding a motorcycle and a trike with a very narrow rear axle, which seemed somewhat unstable, who were riding at a lethargic 35 mph as well. By the time Iwas able to pass them, I was only a mile or two from our destination of Oakland, MD, where I then arrived, feeling rather tried and frustrated. However, a well earned beer soon took off the edge and I traded stories of the day with the other Cannonballers. We were soon treated to the arrival of Bobo, who had dropped out earlier in the trip, in order to return home to Baltimore, because of a family emergency. The immediate concerns having since been addressed, he decided to surprise us for our last evening on the road by riding the last day's route in reverse, which was a very welcome treat!

A large group of us ventures into town in search of dinner and we came upon a great little local restaurant, which we proceeded to take over with our group, more than a dozen strong. We had a delicious meal which more than filled us up, and received great service from the staff, even though we states past their closing time, so we left a superbly generous We staggered back toward our hotel feeling very stuffed, and a couple of us stopped off at CVS to stock up on things we needed. Then it was time to turn in before our last day of the trip. I checked and filled my tires and did a little bit of cleaning to prepare for the next day's ride. Keiran turned in early too, so that he could get a head start, in order to make the ferry across tge Potomac with everyone else at 11:00 am. It didn't seem like the ride was almost over and there was only one day left of the Cannonball. The last one seemed longer, even though it was nine days instead of ten. But then again, a lot can happen in one day on the Cannonball!

Cannonball day eight: St. Louis, MO to Cincinnati, OH

Despite being up relatively late the previous night, I managed to get up fairly early in the morning, which was a good thing because day eight was going to be a long day. However, I soon went into a state of panic when I couldn't find the key to my Vespa! I looked all through my pockets and all over the room, but found nothing. I ran outside, expecting to find an empty space where my scooter had been, since our hotel was in a somewhat dicey area of town. Thankfully, it was still there right where I left it, but the key was nowhere to be found, and I had neglected to bring a spare with me. My pants pocket had developed a hole and I feared that I might have put the key in that pocket the night before, and that it might have fallen out as I was walking around the hotel somewhere. A feeling of dread began to sink in, that my jouney might come to an abrupt halt that morning, after I had retraced all my steps from the night before but found nothing. I ran into Peet outside and asked if he might have seen my key anywhere, and he told me that Rich had it - apparently I left it in my bike the night before and didn't realize it, so Rich took it for safe keeping! What a relief, because not only did I get my key back, but if Rich hadn't seen it, my bike might not have been there in the morning. I felt like I had dodged a bullet.

I opted not to go out for breakfast and instead had a hard boiled egg and a bagel (yes, I do eat my own kind) at the hotel's complimentary continental breakfast. After the rider meeting, I got showered and dressed, then loaded up the truck and went to gas up. Soon, I was back on the road heading east. St. Louis has gotten pretty rough lately, so instead of heading out through town, our route put us on the freeway to go around the east side. We got a heavy dose of fog as we crossed the Mississippi River. I switched on my custom fenderlight foglamp, however it was already pretty bright out, so it really wasn't all that helpful - I'll have to go for a cruise down highway 9 some cool fall evening to really put it to the test.

The ride through southern Indiana was relatively uneventful, with more foggy spots here and there, rolling through picturesque rural farmland. However, the lack of a good, hearty breakfast caught up with me and I soon began to feel very fatigued. I pulled off at the next gas stop after passing the checkpoint at the Indiana line, filled up on gas and got a small sandwich and a soda. After a half hour break, I felt much better and said a quick hello to Oz, who was pulling in to fill up on gas, as I was heading out. I made good time as I moved on through more of the pastoral countryside. On a side note, judging by the McCain signs and bumper stickers, the attitudes from guys driving jacked up pickups, and all the "In God We Trust" license plated, southern Indiana seemed to have the highest concentration of rednecks I had encountered yet. I really feel sorry for the people who live in such isolated parts of the country, whose world view is shaped by the narrow views of their churches, Fox "news" and Rush Limbaugh. One can only hope that someday they'll find a way to learn the truth about what's really going on in the world and be able to make up their minds based on real facts and actual information, instead of the lies and twistes half truths they're spoon fed today.

Anyway, the day's long ride contnued on and eventually I crossed the border into Ohio. The damage from Hurricane Ike became more evident along highway 50 with uprooted trees, landslides, and debris along the riverbanks. On a more positive note, there were a number of charming old buildings and beautiful steel bridges, plus some surprisingly scenic views of the city, as I got closer to Cincinnati.

I was truly beat when I finally rolled into the Days Inn on the east side of town, and after checking in and unloading my gear, I went to the main hotel next door to meet up with the other riders and turn in my timesheet. I made very good time as it turned out, even with my half hour break. I told Rolf to give me a call when he was ready to go to dinner and went back to my room to take care of a few thing and unwind. I soon ended up taking a nap, figuring that I'd get up when Rolf would call to go to dinner. However, I woke up hungry about four hours later, and nobody had called. Since it was too latw to go out and get a decent meal, I ended up eating one of my salmon MRE's and a granola bar. I soon went back to bed, to get some more rest before continuing on the next morning.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Cannonball day seven: Fort Scott, KS to St. Louis, MO

I had such a great time the evening before, with the warm welcome we received in Fort Scott that I didn't have a chance to swap out my worn out rear tire for the spare I had brought, and the old one didn't have enough tread left to make it to St. Louis. I was also up late to prepare my route sheets for the last four days of the trip, since the Fort Scott in had both an Internet connection and a printer that I could use. So, I got to wrenching first thing in the morning, and swapped out my rear tire so that I could safely be on my way. However, this meant a very late start for me, two hours behind schedule after showering, packing and catching breakfast. Oh well, at least I could ride at my own pace and enjoy the day.

After gassing up, I took a quick tour of Fort Scott and took pictures of some of the beautiful old buildings in town. Within minutes, I was over the state line in Missouri, riding through rolling hills past lovely old farmhouses. The aftermath of Hurricane Ike was very visible though, in the swollen creeks and rivers, and in the flotsam that had been deposited at the high water mark, during the worst of the rain that pounded the state. This was a scene that would repeated over and over again, all the way to Ohio. Despite the signs of recent destruction, the hills and curves only got better the farther east I rode, and the small towns I passed through were adorably picturesque. Our route took us through historic Jefferson City, and I made a quick pit stop in Bland, MO, where I astounded a few of the local residents by telling them of my cross-country journey by Vespa. I might have even convinced one guy to buy a GTS too! ;)

Having started late, I rolled into the hotel after everyone else but Kieran, whom I had passed earlier in the day. I got there just in the nick of time too, the last group of riders were just about to leave for Vespa St. Louis, where they were throwing a welcome celebration for us, including closing the shop to let us have free run of it to make any necessary repairs. I tagged along and after dodging a nasty car wreck on the freeway and some thick traffic in town, we arrived safe and sound at the Vespa shop.

Many repairs were already underway by the time I pulled in, bringing back memories of Cleveland during the 2006 Cannonball, including a motor transplant from Joel's wrecked GTS into Bobo's GTV, which had a stripped exhaust stud. Not only did Joel hook up Bobo with a fresh GTS motor which had been very finely tuned, he also bought a brand new midnight blue GTS to replace his wrecked bike! Vespa St. Louis hooked him up with a great deal that he couldn't refuse, and he had a support truck to transport it, so why not? Peet tended to his exhaust, and several others installed new rear tires, myself included. I managed to change my own rear tire by hand, which actually was easier than I had expected. Once a lift was free, I put my bike up and started working on replacing the oil pan gasket, which had developed a nasty leak. After pulling the pan, I found that the old gasket was pretty badly mangled, making me wonder if it left the factory like that, or if someone had been in there and did a poor job of replacing it. Luckily, Vespa St. Louis had a spare, so I was able to get it back together with the right parts, rather than trying to either cut a new gasket by hand or trying to force one on that wouldn't fit. However, the Piaggio gasket is a rather bad design, made of flimsy paper with a thin silicone bead around it, which likes to squeeze out around the outside of the oil pan when the bolts are torqued down! However, I managed to get it to seat reasonably well and seal well enough with some Yamabond, although was rather apprehensive about whether it would hold... I was definitely keeping my fingers crossed!

Although it took a while, I was finally done and left the shop with Roy and Rocket as the only Cannonballers still wrenching, who were working with a couple local scooterists and the mechanics from the shop to get Roy's clutch to attach to the crankshaft. Once I got back to the hotel, I gave a call to Ivy, my friend Heidi's sister, who lives just down the road from our hotel. She came out to meet me for a beer and wings, thankfully she wasn't put off by my greasy, grubby, smelly condition! The wings at Helen Fitzgerald's were as good as she described, made with a mustard-based sauce, rather than the typical pepper-based hot sauce that is usually associates with hot wings. Yum! We had a great time chatting for a while, longer than we had planned, but it was nice to see a familiar face aside from the Cannonballers. After she headed home, I went straight to bed, in the hopes of making an early start the next morning.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Cannonball day six: Garden City, KS to Fort Scott, KS

Having been up late wrenching the night before, I got a late start in the morning, surprise surprise. Not that there was a lot to look forward to on the ride, since day six was all Kansas, all day. This was the first time I had ever been to the state, and I have to say that it lived up to it's expectations - long and flat with lots of corn. Lots of corn, as we found out, means lots of corn moths, pretty little yellow bugs that love to fly in the path of moving vehicles. Scooters are no exception and our bikes saw the worst carnage yet of the trip. There were some interesting sites along the way though. I rode through Dodge City, so now I can officially say that I've gotten the f*** out of Dodge, as the saying goes. A few miles further, there was a major tractor trailer accident, with the rig lying on it's side off to the side of the road. There were also a couple of cool old classic cars parked by the side of the road throughout the day, which was a nice treat. There were also some neat little towns we passed through, plus one with the unusual name of "Gas". Aside from that, the ride was uneventful and I made good time.

The real fun began after we arrived in Fort Scott. Fort Scott is a gorgeous old town full of well preserved old buildings and even brick-paved streets. The chamber of commerce left gift packets for us at the hotel and the invited us to a welcome celebration at the Courtland Hotel, complete with a live bluegrass folk band, called Fuss and Feathers. After a delicious dinner at Rusty's, we headed over to the Courtland and took in the show. The three members of the band, along with a couple of guest singers, did a fantastic job of performing some of the most authentic, traditional bluegrass/folk music I've ever heard. They were a hoot and they left us grinning from ear to ear! I managed to capture several of the songs on video too. It was a real treat for us and was the best reception we had received yet. To top it off, one of the banks in town added a message to their scrolling sign welcoming us to Fort Scott - how cool is that?

Alhough my bike rode well that day, my rear tire was spent. I had expected to make the entire trip on it, but it barely lasted 2000 miles. Normally, one could expect a rear Heidenau K58 to last 4000 to 6000 miles, but the Cannonball has a way of taking normal expectations for wear and tear and throwing them right out the window. I brought a spare, but it was used and had maybe 1000 miles of life left - normal use miles, that is! I also noticed that the oil pan was developing an oil leak, and the oil was indeed a little low. Thankfully, St Louis was only a day away, where Vespa St Louis was ready to take good care of all our wrenching needs. However, since the hotel had both Internet access and a printer, I opted write up and print the rest of the route sheets for my "poor man's GPS", an enduro route holder. That had been a challenge for me, since I hadn't put them together beforehand, which caused problems for me to navigate properly. I was determined to finally get them done and thankfully I did, which was a big relief. The tire and oil would just have to wait until the next morning.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Cannonball day five: Salida, CO to Garden City, KS

Day five started as the chilliest morning of our trip so far, which isn't too surprising for the Rockies in mid-September. We were also greeted by a gorgeous full moon setting over the Rocky Mountains. I set off behind most of the group as I have every day so far (no matter how I try, I just have a really hard time being an early morning person), although I wasn't the very last one. Patrick realized he left his torque wrench in his room after he was about 15 minutes down the road, and he pulled up at the hotel just as I was heading out. Rich was sidelined with a bad fuel injector, which quit right after he gassed up before the ride, and he couldn't get the bike started. Thankfully though, Joel allowed Rolf & Rich to scavenge the injector off his wrecked GTS, and after some roadside surgery, Rich was back on the road. One good turn deserves another, and when the drive belt shredded itself on Bobo's bike, which Joel was riding, Rich offered his spare to Joel. Karma's a great thing, isn't it? :)

I rode solo most of the way, evenually catching up to some of the slower riders. The first part of the trip was gorgeous, passing along steep rock cliffs and tree covered mountains in central Colorado. I was very tempted to check out some of the diversions to take in more of the scenery, like Skyline Drive and the Royal Gorge Bridge, but I really wanted to make good time since I got a late start, so I opted to pass on them. I wish I cold have though, Patrick said the wooden plank suspension bridge was absolutely breathtaking to ride across.

The eastern foothills of the Rockies eventually gave way to the high plains of eastern Colorado, which marked the end of the most scenic part of our trip, but there were still some interesting sites along the way. One of our checkpoints was Bent's Old Fort, just outside of Bent, CO, which is a small but well preserved fort from Colorado's frontier days. However, being under time pressure, I was only able to see it from afar, instead of taking the time to have a good look around. Hopefully someday I'll have a chance to go back and spend more time there. Another interesting sight was the small town called Wiley, which I passed through after fouling up the directions. The people there are friendly and pointed me in the right direction when I stopped to make sure I was going in the right direction. It seemed like a nice place, even though it's way out in the middle of nowhere.

Being in the middle of nowhere, I soon crossed the border into Kansas. The road was mostly straight and flat, with a couple of curves and hills thrown in once in a while. Most of all though, there were a lot of bugs and we got splattered pretty good. Several of us made good time and arrived in Garden City in the early afternoon, but we had to wait around a while before the support trucks arrived. Once they did, a bunch of us went out to dinner at the Golden Corral for a steak buffet dinner. Let's just say that there were many folks there who fit the stereotype of corn-fed middle America. The food was so-so, but we had fun taking over one whole side of the restaurant, and we kept both the waitresses and ourselves amused.

After returning from dinner, it was time to wrench, because my bike had been losing speed every day since day 3. I pulled off the belt cover to take a look, but the belt seemed ok. Rolf and I then pulled off the variator, and he knew something was wrong as soon as I pulled off the outer pulley. Sitting in between the pulleys, dangling from the output shaft was what appeared to be an oil seal of some kind. Rolf asked me who had worked on the variator and I told him that nobody had since he installed it just a week or so before we left. He said he didn't put it in there like that. We pulled off the back half of the pulley, and took a closer look. Aside from the roller weights having some very pronounced flat spots, we discovered that the bushing inside the pulley had worked itself loose and it had pushed out the grease seal from inside the center of the pulley! Apparently the Polini variator is designated as "for racing use only", and was never intended for long distance high speed riding, so it did not hold up to the beating that had been administered by the first five days of the Cannonball, and it was finished. Thankfully I had brought along my J Costa variator, so I installed it and replaced the belt with a good used spare I brought along. After taking it out for a test ride at 11:00pm once it was all back together, I was satisfied that it was able to get back up to full speed again, although it didn't have quite the same peaky power curve that the Polini had. At least I was ready to ride and I could feel confident in my bike again, so it was time to get some much needed rest, even if there weren't nearly as many hours left in the night as I would have wanted. So it goes on the Cannonball!

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Cannonball day four: Blanding, UT to Salida, CO

Day four ended up being a great day, despite the fact that it started out rather wearily and I suffered a few minor setbacks. I stayed up the previous night (not surprising to those of you who know me well), and thanks to the impeccable technical expertise of cell phone providers, Kieran and I woke up an hour earlier than we had intended. In hindsight, it would have been a much better idea to be well rested before crossing the continental divide. No, I didn't ride off a cliff or anything like that, although I did need to make a rest stop for about a half hour along the way, which turned out to be a really good idea.

The day started out with more spectacular scenery riding to the Colorado state line, soon after which the first glimpses of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains could be seen - it was quite an exciting sight! The roads were great and twisty and In good shape, with a number of fairly steep climbs and sweeping curves, meandering next to the rivers. However, my lack of sleep (and lack of a GPS) soon caught up to me, and I missed the turn onto highway 62, instead continuing northwest on highway 145, not realizing my error until it dead ended at highway 141, 35 miles later! Hot, tired and bewildered, I stopped to check the map and figured out that I had to ride all the way back to Placerville. As luck would have it Jim Tillman and the driver of the pickup he was riding in had made the same error, and I flagged them down on my way back and got them pointed in the right direction. I made it back to highway 62 and followed it to highway 550, finally making progress in theright direction. By the time I got to Montrose though, I was fading pretty bad and was in need of a restroom, so I made the dreaded decision to stop and actually take a break at a gas station. After cooling off for 1/2 hour, sitting down, having some peanuts and a soda, I felt much better and was ready to continue on my way.

This year's Cannonball follows Highway 50 most of the way, but we didn't actually ride on it until now. It was well worth the wait though, with plenty of treats in store for us. The first one was Blue Mesa Reservoir, which was incredibly beautiful, first riding along side it, then across the bridge over it. Afterwards, the road went up, and up, and up. Lots more curves and sweepers as it wound its way up to the top of the North American continent. The temperature dropped more and more the higher it got, getting rather frigid nearing Monarch pass. The views all around were breathtaking (as was the thin air was too!), and just as I crested the pass, a dark cloud greeted me with a couple sprinkles, thankfully nothing more. It was quit a feeling of relief to be over the big hump, as it were. The descent into Salida was all downhill, both literally and figuratively, and the town was a very welcome sight.

When I arrived at the hotel, my friend Amanda from Colorado Springs was already there, so after checking in and unloading my gear, we went out for a bite to eat and had a great time hanging out and catching up the rest of the evening. To top off the day, when we went on a beer run, I spotted a six pack I had never seen before, from the Ska Brewing Company in Durango, CO - True Blonde Ale, which prominently features a P-series scooter! :D

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Cannonball day three: Cedar City, UT to Blanding, UT

Today was the best of days and the worst of days. We left Cedar City with a chill in the air, as a group of hot air balloons were launching into the sky. Before we knew it, we ascended to over 10,000 feet, past colorful rock cliffs, with some great views of the hills below. After descending into the valley below, our route took us through the absolutely breathtaking Red Canyon. I can't even find the words to describe how amazing it was to drive through these gorgeous cavernous red cliffs.

On a side note, my pictures would do a much better job of expressing how amazing that place is, but I still haven't had a chance to upload my pictures on flickr. I've taken nearly 1000 pictures so far in just 3 days, and it's going to take me a while to sort through, organize and upload them. At this rate, I'm afraid I won't have a chance to do that until the Cannonball is over, since there just isn't enough time left in the day, after riding 300+ miles. But anyway, back to today's ride...

After passing through Red Canyon was, the next checkpoint on the ride was Bryce Canyon, which offered us even more spectacular scenery, even though we only got to see the edge of the canyon. Continuing along Highway 12, we were treated to even more fantastic views of beautiful canyons and cliffs, for miles and miles.

After the first 130 miles or so, we took a turn down a very amazing but brutal goat trail of a road, County Road 1668, better known as Burr Trail Road. It's a narrow, winding, rough road that snakes its way through some of the most spectacular canyons I've ever seen, but which pushed all of us to our limits and some of us beyond them. About 25 to 30 miles of the road was nothing but plain old dirt, gravel, rocks and silt, which took down at least 6 of our 23 riders, injuring one seriously, my good friend Jim Tillman. From what I gather, the linked brakes on his Honda Ruckus caused the front wheel to lock up on the loose dirt of the road and throw him to the ground, breaking several ribs and the collarbone on his right side. I was the first to scooterist to come across him, although a passer by in a truck had already helped him up off the ground and got his bike up by the time I arrived. I helped him duct tape up some of the broken pieces of his bike, and he insisted on riding the rest of the road, although he didn't admit to the extent of his injuries. He insisted that I carry on and ride my ride, so I pressed on.

Thankfully, the dirt road gave way to paved road again (at least for the most part) for the remaining 25 miles to the ferry across Lake Powell. I arrived with 10 minutes to spare before the 1:00 ferry was scheduled to disembark, otherwise I would have waited 2 more hours. Mark and Patrick were already there ahead of me, who had made it through the Burr Trail safely. Jess and Rich arrived several minutes later, just before the ferry was about to leave, and they got on board just in the nick of time. Just as the ferry was starting to pull away from the dock, Dave from PA showed up, soon followed by Jim T. The very cool ferry captain actually backed up and let the two of them on board. It was a good thing too, as Jim was not doing so well. He laid down for a while, but then wasn't able to get back up, and when I helped him up, he nearly fainted. At that point, we knew that he needed medical attention and a park ranger who happened to be riding the ferry called for help. Another park ranger came out and transported Jim to the emergency center to have him checked out. Patrick went with him, and we left both of their bikes on the dock where the ferry landed. We figured we'd need to come back to pick up Jim's bike, so I took his keys with me, and since I planned to come back with Rolf in the truck.

I rode the rest of the way to Blanding through some more fantastic scenery, and made such good time that I was the first one to arrive at the motel. About 10 minutes before I arrived, Patrick called and said that he and Jim were going to ride the rest of the way. I tried calling him back to let him know that I had Jim's keys, but I only got his voice mail. I didn't hear back from him, but after some of the other scooters arrived, I learned that Jim did have a spare set of keysand that he was on his way. Someone commented that he's tough as nails, to which I added, "and stubbon as a mule too! ;)

The last scooterist to arrive was John Smith, with his scooter in tow on a trailer, behind a AAA service truck. Apparently part of the tread on his rear Dunlop tire came off completely, something unheard of for scooter tires! Luckily it somehow still held air and he didn't lose control of the bike, but scary, scary stuff - and boo on Dunlop for producing such a crappy tire!

Thankfully though, with all of today's mishaps, just about everyone made it through the most challenging day without major issues. Jim is having one of the support trucks take his bike and he's going to fly home to see his doctor to get checked out. I hope that Jim's able to make it home soon and that everyone else has a safe rest of the trip. Tomorrow we'll press on to Salida, Colorado - stay tuned!

Friday, September 12, 2008

Cannonball day two: Lee Vining, CA to Cedar City, UT

After making the necessary repairs yesterday and getting everything ready, it was time to push on through Nevada this morning. I figured since we were going to be crossing the high desert, it would be a good idea to use the cooling vest I bought. You know... Nevada + desert + late summer = super hot... right? So I figured I should have the cooling vest ready in case I needed it. For those that don't know, a cooling vest is something you wear under your mesh riding jacket, which you soak in water beforehand, but which is dry to the touch when you put it on. As air flows through your mesh jacked and against the vest, the water evaporates and does a great job of cooling you down for several hours, which is a necessity when covering long distances in hot weather. I didn't have one for the last Cannonball, and there were a few times when I wished I did, so I went to the local motorcycle shop and picked one up just before I left on the trip.

So, this morning I soaked it in the sink for a few minutes, then pulled it out to find that it was covered in this slimy, snot-like substance! I tried to rinse it off, but it wouldn't come off, and squeezing it only seemed to make more come out! I called the company up to find out what was going on, and they said that a little was normal for the first use, and that I should just wipe it off and it would be fine. But this was more than a little, I went through several hotel towels and it still felt slimy, so there was no way I was going to put that on unless the temperature got above 100 degrees. I ended up putting it a bag to carry with me, just in case.

However, all the time that I spent dealing with that ridiculous cooling vest should have been spent packing and loading my gear in the support truck, so that I could leave on time at 8:00am sharp with everyone else. I made it to the meetup spot at 8:01, and there were two or three stragglers scrambling to get on the road, and no support truck - Rolf didn't realize I hadn't left yet and he took off without my gear! In a panic, I loaded up my duffel bag and backpack (both fairly heavy) on my scooter, packed my Camelback full of ice and took off down the road. Being up earlier than I'm used to, in a panic and full of caffeine, I missed the first turn 5 miles down the road, and didn't realize it for another 12 miles! I turned back and got back on track, but had little hope of catching Rolf in the truck. I had left him a voice mail, but there was little chance that he'd get any cell phone reception in the eastern California desert, let alone the desolate Nevada back country. Today was also our longest mileage day, 419 miles, not including the extra miles I tacked on due to poor navigation.

Today was also our first casualty, thankfully a mechanical one rather than a human one, although it could have been much worse. Joel Hamilton from New York was riding his GTS when suddenly his headset came loose, which caused him to lose control of his bike and go down. Luckily, he landed in the dirt rather than on the pavement, and as Jess described, he cartwheeled like a gingerbread man would if he were thrown like a Chinese throwing star! Amazingly, he only suffered a little road rash on his left hip and a couple of bruises. His bike, was pretty banged up and not rideable, but as chance would have it, Bobo had to leave us and fly home due to a family emergency, and his Vespa GTV was being transported back to the east coast in the support truck driven by Joel's dad. Bobo had offered for anyone to ride his bike if needed, as long as he got it back at the end of the ride. Joel, the hardcore pro skateboarder and motocrosser shook off the dust and gravel and decided to press on riding Bobo's bike - talk about getting right back on that horse!

I came by the scene of the crash after they had loaded Joel's bike in the truck and they were ready to hit the road again. I asked if they could carry my gear in their truck, and they were more than happy to. Whew!!! That made for one big bullet dodged for me, as well Joel. I offered to buy them all dinner tonight as thanks for saving my tuchus, because carrying 60 lbs worth of gear for more than 400 miles up and down mountains through the Nevada desert would have made for a grueling day for me.

With my load significantly lightened, I pressed on. I lost some major time with my navigational blunder earlier, so I was hightailing it across the desert to make up as much time as I could. In my haste, I accidentally made a right when I should have made a left (at US-6, not at Albuquerque), adding even more of a delay to my ride. This time, I went nearly 14 miles out of the way, and 14 back! This added more than an hour to my trip, not a good start to the day at all. I was reminded of the numerous navigational errors I had made on the last Cannonball, and I vowed to do better the rest of the day, and double and triple checked my directions and the miles to the next intersection, which paid off in the end. Next to mechanical reliability, accurate navigation is the second most crucial element in the Cannonball, or for any long ride for that matter.

The ride across the Nevada desert was largely uneventful and with a few exceptions, I was on my own, admiring the rugged beauty and breathtaking scenery along the way. There's something about desert landscapes that I really love, all the colors, rock formations, unusual vegetation, etc, that make it such an incredible place. Not that I'd want to live out there necessarily, but I just love to watch the scenery as I ride through. The high desert in Nevada is exceptionally amazing because it changes each time you go through another set of hills and mountains. I took some amazing pictures, although I don't think I'll have time to upload them tonight, hopefully tomorrow. It was a long drive and we also lost an hour crossing into mountain time, so I have to head to bed before long, so that I'll be rejuvenated for tomorrow's ride.

One other highlight of the ride today was the Extraterrestrial Highway, Nevada highway 375. Aside from the otherworldly landscape, it's also located near Area 51, hence the name, so as one would expect, there are all sorts of tourist traps to capitalize on the theme, such as the Little Ale'Inn. I didn't stop there, but it at least gave my a smile as I sped past. A little further down the road, there was a giant silver alien statue that someone had built in front of their house, which was probably 3 stories tall. I guess when you have lots of spare time in the desert, that's just the kind of thing to do.

The day was long, even longer for me, so the Utah state line was a welcome sight. The scenery changed a bit too, although it's still very much desert, it's less rocky and there's much more vegetation in a wider array of colors, reminding me of an expressionistic painting at times. But one of the most beautiful sights was the rose-colored cliffs behind the town of Cedar City as I approached. It was an absolutely breathtaking view and it definitely made my ~475 mile day worth it.

After a nice soak in the hot tub at the hotel, a delicious steak dinner at the Market Grill and some repacking, I'm done for the night. Tomorrow will be another adventure across the great state of Utah!

P.S.: Remember that infernal cooling vest? Well, I don't think it ever got much hotter than 80 degrees, so I had absolutely no use for it. Jeez, what a waste of my time... go figure!

Cannonball day one: San Francisco, CA to Lee Vining, CA

The first day of the Cannonball was long and challenging, but successful. I had trouble posting last night because of poor Internet and AT&T wireless service in Lee Vining. I also spent a good bit of time wrenching on the bike, but let's start at the beginning. We all met up at Ocean Beach Thursday morning, even Rocket made it in the nick of time, having slept somewhere off of I-5 on his way down from Vancouver. We had a nice ride to Alice's, where some of us had a bite to eat. After that, the ride began in earnest. I took a shortcut to the freeway to save time on the way to our first checkpoint, the James Lick Observatory on top of Mt. Hamilton, but somehow Oz managed to make it there quicker, going down Skyline and Highway 9. I was pushing my bike pretty hard, and coming down the back side of Mt. Hamilton, I felt my rear brake suddenly get weak, then nothing at all - the lever went all the way to the grip without any resistance! I used my front brake to slow down, but as I came to a stop, it started to get really weak too! I barely managed to keep my bike up on the gravel shoulder, it took every ounce of strength and willpower to keep it from tipping over. Not with the brand new paint job, oh no!!My initial thought was that one of my brake lines had gone, but when I looked, nothing was leaking. It turned out that I had been leaning on the brakes so hard going up and down the mountain that I had cooked them! After giving them time to cool off, they were fine again, thankfully. What a way to start a 10-day, 3300+ mile trip!

Riding through the central valley went pretty well and I made decent time. I met up with a few of the other riders at a construction zone east of Turlock. One of the guys mentioned that my topcase was sagging quite a bit. I hadn't noticed it, but the hinge pin came out of one side of the rack, tilting that side up in the air and bending the other side in the process. I suspect the rough roads coming gown from Mt. Hamilton must have done a number on it, especially with the 3/4 full 4-gallon spare tank inside the topcase. Although it was loose, it seemed stable enough to press on. However, I was staring to remember how much wrenching I had to do on the last Cannonball two years ago, and I hoped this one wouldn't be a repeat.

The ride through Yosemite was gorgeous as one would expect, I'd love to take a longer vacation there by scooter someday. My fuel situation started getting critical though, because my spare tank was listing backwards and there was probably 1/2 gallon inside that wasn't able to flow into the main tank, and there's no gas in Yosemite. With a little creative leaning and braking on downhills though, I was able to get enough to trickle down and make it the rest of the way to Lee Vining. Whew!

I unpacked, downloaded the day's pictures and video onto my laptop, then went for a bite to eat at Nicely's diner across the street. A tasty salmon steak hit the spot, then I went back to my bike to see what I could do abou the rack. One of the clips that hold the hinge pin in place was missing, and the nearest hardware store was over 1/2 hour away, so much for a quick fix. I ended up taking off the tank and topcase, then took the rack apart by removing the hinge pin. I bent the one side of the rack back into shape by wedging it into a crevice on the dumpster in the parking lot and applying a little brute force. Then, I cut two sections of rubber hose, slipped them over the hinge pin, and slipped ttwo small clamps over the hose. I reattached the rack and hinge pin, and used the clamps and hose to keep the hinge pin in place, and voilĂ ! A solution as good as anything Macguyver could have come up with! It gets dark early in Lee Vining, so putting tv tank and topcase back on were a chore by flashlight, but I got it done, then gassed up and got ready for the next day's ride.

I'll pos more about today's ride later, but for now I need to get a bite to eat

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Ready, steady...

I'm all packed, loaded up, in San Francisco, and ready to leave in less than 7 hours. The past few days have been just a whirlwind of wrenching, planning, packing and preparing, but now I feel like I'm all set. It's weird though, it doesn't quite feel like the Cannonball yet. Once we meet up in the morning though and everyone's chomping at the bit, I'm sure it'll be a different story. But for now, it's time for me to get some much needed rest. More to come tomorrow!

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Welcome to my blog!

Greetings to all and welcome to my blog! I've decided to start a new blog to chronicle my adventures on the Scooter Cannonball Run 2008, which starts two days from now, as well my ongoing scooter pursuits in general. The Cannonball is a cross-country endurance ride undertaken by twenty three of us, riding scooters from coast to coast, from the Pacific at Ocean Beach in San Francisco, CA to the Atlantic at Ocean City, MD. Our journey will take 10 days, riding roughly 300 to 400 miles per day in some of the most remote areas of the heartland of America. We'll climb from sea level to more than 11,000 feet, through scorching desert valleys and over frigid mountaintops. The 2006 Cannonball was an epic journey and this ride certainly will be no less.

Hopefully the weather will be as good as one could hope for, but I won't be a bit surprised to see some inclement conditions along the way. I am very glad to hear that tropical depression Hannah has dissipated over the Atlantic and now poses no threat. At the moment, Ike is throwing a weak punch at western Cuba, and then will meander across the Gulf, reaching the coast of Texas by Saturday. Hopefully we'll be far enough north of that storm going through Colorado, Kansas and Mississippi, that we'll miss it when it reaches the US. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed, but I have my rainsuit and wet bag ready to go in the event they're needed.

I still have a good bit of organizing and packing to do, Wednesday will be very busy for me. Tuesday evening I'll be taking care of the last few things I need to do on my bike, then making a quick stop at the pub for a bite and a pint, then head home to prepare to leave for San Francisco the next day. Wish me luck and safe travels, without any deer, turkeys (either aviary or human), jackrabbits, jackasses (either equine or human), wash outs, wipeouts, road closures, snowstorms, low sides, high sides, or any other adverse encounters during my journey. As always, I plan to ride safely out there and be as prepared as possible for whatever may come throughout the journey.

I'm fully confident in my bike and I am really looking forward to this ride. Some roads will be very challenging and demanding, but others will be absolutely stunningly beautiful and breathtaking. That's what makes the Cannonball both a grueling and amazing ride that forces you out of your comfort zone and rewards you with the thrill of the experiences and adventures you have along the way.

The thing that I enjoyed the most about the last Cannonball was the sense of freedom I felt while riding through the wide open spaces of this magnificent land. To some people, the song "America the Beautiful" may just be a bunch of words, but I've seen it with my own eyes, I've been surrounded by it, in all its glory. There is so much awe-inspiring scenery throughout this country, most people have no idea - and what I've seen of it has barely even scratched the surface! I love to see how different the geology is in different parts of the country. So far, my favorite has been western Wyoming, although Utah was pretty amazing too. This time we'll be going through Utah and Colorado, so there will undoubtedly be some incredible sights along our route on days 3 and 4.

I'll post more updates as I have the opportunity, at least once per day. Stay tuned!

In the meantime, here are a few shots of my bike, all ready for the ride:

My GTS - finished and ready to roll!

My GTS - finished and ready to roll!

My GTS - finished and ready to roll!

My GTS - finished and ready to roll!

My GTS - finished and ready to roll!