328 From Tombstone

328 From Tombstone and Back and Home Again

Saturday morning started innocently enough with a latish breakfast at the Helldorado Chuckwagon, an "Eatery", where we had a great breakfast served by waitresses that called you “Hon” and laughed with us; Jim is especially good at relating to them – it was like breakfast with family and that suited us just fine. There was no solid plan in place for the day as the weather was a big concern; everyone checked and rechecked the weather apps and GPS units; they said the same thing, wind, more wind, and possible rain late; we rode anyway.

The objective was a couple of mountain roads over in New Mexico. After walking back to the Sagebrush we geared up and rode out of town with only a breeze until we got further up Highway 80, nothing that presaged what our day would really be all about. Once we hit Highway 10 east the winds picked up and we were in 10^o leans with the full intensity of the day’s blasts hitting just as we entered New Mexico, it was though the state meant to blow us back to Arizona and we were at 20^o leans. We had 30 MPH sustained winds with 50 MPH gusts for the remainder of the ride with the only respite being the mountain roads and even then we had to be vigilant for the vagrant gust coming down the canyons as we twisted our way back to the main highways. 

In the photo here, taken of me by Steve Mclean Sr., I had just turned my head to give him a wave when a gust hit me from the right snapping my head and shoulders back straightening my arms out and I had to get busy getting back into position. When I had followed Kevin on a calm day his flags whipped straight back; on this day, in this wind, his flags whipped 90^os one way or the other. There was a long Facebook discussion on the physics of this but it would tax my understanding just to copy it to this post.

We took refuge for a much needed break at an abandoned gas station somewhere in New Mexico during the return part of the loop. It seemed to me at the time to be emblematic of the day's ride. It was a mixed bag of a ride with some very ride-worthy sections with the winds and, thankfully, only a couple of minor sand blasts. It could have been worse in that regard, much worse; we saw frequent permanent signs warning of blowing dust and sand and we sand storms in the distance. I know that I uttered a couple of prayers hoping to fend off the sand.

You know that you are on a great ride when the visibility is for miles and you can only see a quarter mile of road in front of you. When the lead-dog disappears in front of you and the sweeps can’t be seen in the rearview and then you come out of the gorgeous sweeping curve to check your speed and are surprised at the top-end then you know you are locked in and riding good tech hitting the entry, the apex, and shooting out the far end. You know you are in a great group when everyone forms up on the flats in tight formation without batting an eye.

Likewise, you know that you are in for a workout when you see every rider in a 20^o lean from upright in the straights from lead to sweep. And you know it’s really tough when everybody is in a lean but not to the same side at the same time. 328 miles mostly in the crosswind; my best recollection of the route (I hope Kevin will correct me here) was Hwy 80 out of Tombstone, east on Hwy 10 into New Mexico, down the 146 to the 9 over to the 80 at Rodeo, south through Douglas within spitting distance of Mexico, and then back up the 80 through Bisbee to Tombstone where we spent some time at the Boothill Cemetery. The route could have been very different – I was mostly focused on staying with the group and between the guardrails. I would have benefited by having a GPS app recording the route for the day, I’ll work on that.

Boothill was entertaining with the nicknames of some of the people buried there and sobering at the same time with so many graves with “Unknown” markers, a section of men hanged (1 lynched), and so many shot, stabbed, or that had otherwise met a violent death. There were the clearly marked graves of the three Cowboys killed at the OK Corral with the notice that they were “murdered in the streets of Tombstone”. It was a hard time in a harsh land and after our ride I wondered just how they got along without pavement in such a place.

Dinner that night was followed by slow walk back through the historic section of town after a short rain shower while we ate. It was Twilight in Tombstone but my timing was bad and I didn’t witness any of the free gunfights staged around the town, bad timing I guess. The OK Corral has a store but you have to pay to see the actual area where the historic gunfight took place as it is now surrounded by high walls.

We ate an early breakfast at the Helldorado, riding down the three blocks with bikes ready to ride out. After we posed for a group shot on the main street of Tombstone we road home with a series of goodbyes, first Kevin split off east at Highway 10 on his way to Dallas for a conference and eventual Iron Butt run home, then it was Mike, Jim, and Greg at a couple of junctions in Phoenix, Mike and Jim to roundabout way home and Greg to visit a friend in town before heading home the following day. Tim, Brad, and Gerald peeled off well into California and then it was Steve and me until we split up when I jumped off the freeway to refuel at the junction of the 10 and 57 freeways. The only thing that marked the ride home for me was riding blind for 250 miles when my speedometer and tach went out. After each stop it they would work for a time and then go out. It wasn’t too bad with me following the others but the last 50 miles home was a bit nerve-wracking. Something’s loose and not just the nut between the seat and the handlebars…all in all, it was a fine adventure with outstanding bikers.

Tombstone Group with OK Corral in the background.
Photo courtesy of Steve Mclean Sr.

The Road to Tombstone

Gerald on his Highball -
Photo courtesy of Steve Mclean

Tombstone; the destination for my first multi-day group ride and longest single-day ride total. By the time we all met up there were nine riders, all of us on Victories for the three-day ride – three Visions, five Cross-countries if we still count Brad Parrack’s beautiful newly and heavily modified bike, and one High Ball ridden by Brad’s son Gerald. On the visions we had Kevin Shaw, the ride leader, Steve Mclean Sr., and Jim Liston. Including Brad and me our Cross riders were Mike Roark, Greg Brown, and Tim Tarbet. In my mind Gerald had the gutsiest ride of us all with the High Ball, moderate ape hangers, no windscreen, and no seat back; he rode the crap out of that bike and reminded me of when my best friend and I took off on our under powered and under equipped Hondas for 4,000 miles – a CB500 and a 350 Scrambler. Well done young man. 

My kick stand was up at 4:27 am, three minutes early, and I headed east out the 210 to meet Kevin at the Seidners Collision Center in Duarte. Fortunately this was not a harbinger of things to come and nobody needed the place other than as a meet point. The Cheshire moon was low in front of me and had Venus hanging below like a Liz Taylor diamond gleaming in the predawn sky. The two us jumped right back on the 210 for 13 miles to pick up Steve at a park-and-ride. Still dark out, we rode out to Moreno Valley and brought the ride number up to seven with Brad, Gerald, Greg, and Tim.

After we met, re-met, and greeted each other we geared up swapping out clear eyewear for sunglasses and jumped on Highway 10 for the first longish, as it turned out, ride segment to gas up 94 miles later at Chiriaco Summit. The sun made its grand entrance and we rode right into it. For the most part I rode in the middle of the pack with Tim preferring the sweep position and Kevin in the lead. We had a pretty calm ride until we hit the San Gorgonio Pass and the big wind farms with the gigantic turbines stretching along the pass and ridgelines like Indian warriors stretched out as shown in the old western movies. With the sun rising more white than yellow making the clouds silver in the celeste-blue sky and us coming up the grade into it the riders ahead of me were silhouetted in front of the turbines in the grayscale scene; the only color showing was the red taillights drawing us onward as we snaked up the grade.

Fueled up, we pushed into Arizona to meet up with Jim and Mike in Quartzsite. At this point Kevin was taken to task for being ten minutes late after 234 miles and three meet points. After all, we had another 100 miles to breakfast in Buckeye and Jim was hungry. To be honest, as soon as he said it, so was I; I hadn’t given it much thought with all the excitement of the adventure ahead of me. Considering that we wouldn’t eat lunch a late proper breakfast, as Dale Moews would describe it, worked just fine. As the rest of the trip unfolded, not stopping for lunch was the pattern; I felt right as home as that was the way we worked microwave radio site visits in the middle of nowhere.

The next hop was 150 miles into Tucson where we stopped at HMD and since I hadn’t taken the time to figure out what that was I had a nice surprise. HMD, Heavy Metal Desigz is a custom design and fabricator for motorcycles and specializing in the Victory line. Arlen Ness and HMD are official distributors of each other's parts. This is where Brad got the parts and design help for his bike. They also do cars and trucks; basically, anything on wheels they will make look awesome! Mike Saenz is the originator of HMD and he hosted a tour of the shop; he and the rest of the team are gracious, knowledgeable and friendly. The current in-shop project is shown here and is similar to Brad’s black XC, they are both stunning bikes. I highly recommend a visit to the website at: http://www.hmd520.com/ . Start with HMD if you want to do some great work on your ride.

HMD design Victory Cross Country

Close up from HMD Website

Another 69 miles later and we checked into the Sagebrush Inn in Tombstone, it was perfect for our group, hitching posts in front of the rooms for our bikes and everything. I had the Fred McLaury room having left the Maureen O’Hara suite for Tim. Dinner that night was a 10-block walk to The Depot Steakhouse & Johnny Ringo’s Bar and since nobody really noticed my western style riding boots I’d have been better off walking it in my tennis shoes. Good meal, good friends, and a good day all around.

When all was said and done and all was seen that I was to see over the 571 miles and 10-block walk the quote of the day for me was something like this: “Hair? I thought she’d just got out of the pool and that was a swim cap!”

Ride safe, be well, and keep the iron side up.

Patchwork 2 - Tombstone Tune-Up

I am preparing for my first multi-day trip with two or more riders since the summer of 1972 when three riders on two bikes left my house for what was scheduled to be a six week ride that, for me, ended as four weeks out with a solo run home from Bass Lake. It was a great journey in many respects and should be the subject of a multi-post series. This weekend’s trip to Tombstone, Arizona will be different in almost every aspect and I’m not so sure that I know how to get ready for it. There will be nine or ten riders meeting up at different spots from Monrovia out to Quartzite, Arizona. I’ll leave my place at 4:30 in the morning to meet Kevin at 5 a.m. in Monrovia. I’d be yawning already except that’s not too different from dozens of long work trips I’ve taken over the years, not to mention the personal road trips with friends, family, and on my own. I feel at home on the road.

Mentally, I ticked off several items that I needed and/or wanted to do prior to going; clean the bike that’s been mostly idle for six weeks or so, see about a bike-to-bike communications system, check all my gear including rain gear, protective gear for the heat and cold, off-bike clothes, and rider’s group vest, and I also needed to get on the bike for at least an hour at one stretch to make sure the bike and rider are in sync.

I started out looking into the comm. system by asking Kevin, the trip leader, what he suggested. He uses a CB system that requires installation; the time and money ruled that out for me for this trip. Kevin suggested that I ask the group what they are using by going through the Facebook message we’ve been running. Brad, Tim, Jim, and Mike all use a Sena device. I already have a Scala Rider Q2 by Cardo Systems but I haven’t used it in a couple of years. I decided to dust it off, charge it up, and see if I can talk to anybody. The only problem is that when I opened the box the charge and MP3 cords were not there; they may be buried in my spare bike gear box in a garage that has been Wedding Central now for six months and two weddings. I may excavate later today or I may be running silent.

I know I’m good on the riding gear, cold and hot, so I decided to tackle the tune up ride and rider’s vest at the same time by running out to Buckle and Belts in Calimesa yesterday. You might recall from my previous post that I screwed up the last attempt by letting my saddlebag flop open and losing my patch. I started out the ride by having lunch in Montrose with some retired phone company friends and having the lunch extended by running into some old friends I haven’t seen in years. From there I headed out the 210 freeway and followed my Waze app directions to the end of the 210 and onto the Highway 10. The weather was just right, 72 degrees with light patchy clouds. The roads were wonderfully clear just after noon and I was able to keep a brisk pace in the carpool lane all the way out - 80 miles in less than 75 minutes. This was the perfect tune-up for me.

Prior to leaving I had double checked my saddle bag with the vest and patch, having acquired a new one from Kevin over the weekend, and checked the bag during the run out to Calimesa every once in a while as I’ve become a little paranoid about it. I arrived at Buckle and Belts to find a very nice looking Harley Sportster out front, clean chrome with a gold and black trimmed paint job, it was a pretty bike but it looked too small for me. I went in and asked the ladies about having the patch sewn on while giving my sob story about losing the first one. I was lucky that the right person was there who is not usually there on Tuesdays. Whew! I shopped around while she sewed it on after having positioned the patch for her and picked up my first personal patch to be sewn on at a later date. Again, I recommend the place and a visit to their website to read the owner’s story: http://www.buckle-belts.net/ . I found great service with a large selection of patches, vests, and other riding accessories.

I learned one thing on the way home; I should let the Waze GPS app lead me. Waze had me going home via Highway 10 to the 57 to the 210. Thinking that I knew better and going back the way I came as soon as I hit the junction from the 10 to the 210 traffic came to a dead stop. I jumped off the nearby off ramp and doubled back to the 10 and had a good ride home. I feel tuned-up for the ride to Tombstone, making some new friends, deepening other friendships, and exploring some of the fabled scenes from an era that I sometimes feel is where I should have been born to. With my luck though rather than being a US Marshall I’d have been a blacksmith apprentice or running a telegraph office.

Ride safe, be well, and keep the iron side up.

How to Screw Up a Solo Ride All By Yourself

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself because I was so clever to combine a “daddy-do” item and sneaking in a fun ride – I should have seen the whole thing coming right then and humbled myself because, in retrospect, the proverb “Pride cometh before a fall” was in full swing. Fortunately it was not an actual fall.

The day started out pretty good, I was going to meeting my daughter in Beverly Hills at The Grove in order to return her digital camera; she was coming in from Santa Barbara to have a girls’ day out with my granddaughter and friends at the American Girl Place. I had recently upgraded my phone from the ancient iPhone 3Gs to the 5Gs and hadn’t updated my Ram Ball mount so I went old school and Googled the directions from La Crescenta so that I could write the pertinent turns in large letters and slide the sheet into my River Road tank map holder. No worries.

It was a beautiful day for riding with a late morning kick stand up at 66 degrees and only warming up to the low 70s; ideal. I wove my way down the twisties from home and hit the 2 freeway south. Google took me to Glendale Blvd. north to Baxter, on to Rockford, and then to Silver Lake that turned into Beverly Blvd that took me to The Grove. From Glendale to Silver Lake were unfamiliar roads and I found Baxter to be an extreme uphill run with a stop sign that had just enough leveling out to make it an easy stop for a novice rider. No worries. From the stop you look up the hill to an open sky, nothing in the backdrop. I went on up and crested the hill to find a steeper down slope then the approach was up – I was reminded of my first ride on Goliath at Magic Mountain. If I had come up the hill at speed without caring what greeted me on the other side I would have gotten air even on my heavy Victory Cross Country and then I would have careened downhill and into the low wall to be propelled over the handle bars, over the chain-link fence, and into the Silver Lake Reservoir. I’m a cautious rider so none of that happened. When I checked the route this morning my Waze app would have given me a much more direct route and I would have missed my Goliath adventure if I would have had the GPS going.

The rest of the ride to The Grove was a leisurely course along the lake to Beverly Hills where nearly all the beautiful people live, after all, my riding friends are all beautiful and none of them live in Beverly Hills and I’ve been missing them big time. The timing was just right and I pulled out of the parking structure without having to pay after getting some huge hugs from daughter, granddaughter, and friends, and handing over the camera.

In the parking lot I flipped over the route sheet to find my way from there out to Buckles and Belts in Calimesa. I made it to the 10 freeway using dead reckoning and headed east. All I had on the flip-side of my instructions was the address thinking that the Calimesa off ramp would get me there.  That was error number 2 – error number 1 being my feeling clever with myself. The ride out to Calimesa was uneventful and even though freeway riding is not my favorite, the Saturday morning traffic was light enough to allow me to enjoy the ride for what it was, a trip out to get a rider’s vest and have my Greater Los Angeles Victory Riders patch sewn on.

The Calimesa off ramp only got me off the freeway and onto the side roads and I got turned around pretty fast. I pulled over, twisted around and opened my saddle bag where, for some stupid reason, I had my iPhone. I got the route I needed in my head, put my phone into my zippered jacket pocket where I usually keep it, and made my way to Buckles and Belts, a destination store for solo and group rides. When I pulled into the lot there were three Harley riders getting back on their bikes. They complimented me on the VCC and then told me that the saddle bag was open. Embarrassed, I looked over and found that the not-so-cheap patch had blown out. I was so flustered that I could barely muster a decent thank you and return the compliments; they had a nice set of bikes and deserved more appreciation than I could give them right then. My planned leisurely shopping and patch sewing excursion was crushed. I ran in, found the vest and made a cursory lap around a store that had patches for every taste, jackets, vests, belts, and a wonderful group of family owners. I recommend the place and a visit to their website to read the owner’s story: http://www.buckle-belts.net/ . I plan on going back once Mission Arizona ’14, retirement from AT&T, and my son’s wedding are all behind me in April.

My ride home after retracing my steps and not finding the patch was glum at best and tedious to boot. Needless to say there is a lesson to be learned here, stay vigilant on the ride. When something unexpected happens and gets you out of your normal riding habits, take a step back and take inventory of your bike, your attitude, and where you are heading. Do this and it will help you keep the iron side up.

My new Ram Mount and iPhone 5s; yes, I can still learn.

This Rider’s Thanksgiving Prayer

Holy God, thank you for allowing me to ride again these past few years; it has been good to be back on two wheels on the open road. I am grateful for the new riding friends that I am meeting and growing closer to on each ride, especially the Greater Los Angeles Victory Riders, on Vics or not; they are a warm and caring group, full of fun and accepting. Bless each one of them this day with good health, loving families, and a good ride.

 

I am thankful for my family and friends who understand my desire to ride and write and who support me on this passage from phase to phase and along life’s winding roads.

 

I appreciate the roads you are leading me over, on two wheels or four, peddling or skating, walking or floating. Thank you for being with me on the journey and allowing me to look back and see that you’ve been there all along even when I was too overwhelmed by life to see you there. I especially enjoy the ride when I feel you near me, even positioned next to me.

 

Thank you for keeping me with the iron side up and safe on the road. Without hesitation during a prayer of thanks I ask that you do the same for my friends and family on bikes, in autos, and on foot; protect them and guide them over these blessed holidays and let them know that you are there with them.

 

I find it amazing that you let me believe that from time to time you tell me “Let’s Ride!” Thank you for the sacrifice you made for me, the forgiveness that you never fail to offer, and the opportunity to live. I look forward to ride ahead and anticipate more blessings along the bended road, in traffic, with a group, or going solo though not alone. Thank you for being with us at every turn and road condition, fit or in disrepair, crowded or wide open. You are here, thank you.

 

Amen


 

Lighten Up!

Riders should be seen and be hyper-vigilant to be seen. Being heard is okay and can sometimes be helpful in being seen but we should remember what goes on inside the cage with the stereos thumping, cell phones beckoning, passengers begging for attention, and vehicle warnings beeping and all within the snug confines of an enclosure designed to keep sound out and passengers isolated from the outside world. The only way to be sure cagers know you are there is if you see their eyes and even then we can’t take it for granted that they’ll do the right thing.

 

Good lighting is a step in the right direction. When I had my Honda Sabre, I added a light bar. When I was looking to move up and considering the Victory Cross Roads I intended to do the same but I then went with the Cross Country (VCC) instead with the slick fairing and sleek forged highway bars. A year after getting the VCC I started adding little things like the chrome saddlebag rails and new Arlen Ness Tear-drop mirrors and then began considering ways to add some lights. I wanted to find a way to put running lights in the upper corners of the highway bars thinking that this would be an ideal position to keep the overall lines of the bike intact.

 

With the 25K mile service  due I decided to get serious about lights and called John Pucciarelli at Southern California Motorcycles (http://www.socalmotorcycles.com ). John sold me the VCC while at Cycle Dragon before the shop closed down and I’ve found him to be an innovative rider with good design ideas. I used to take the bike to Bert’s for service after Cycle Dragon closed but then Bert’s wimped out and stopped offering Victory bikes. John had me call Scott Child, CEO of Wolf LED Systems, who had put together a system which Mike Cadena helped design, with Mike being from the old Cycle Dragon shop it sounded like a cycle circle of life. I perused the Wolf LED site but couldn’t find a kit for the VCC and when I called Scott he took care of it and got Kristoffer Stoll involved. Within a short time the kit was listed on the site as promised; I placed my order and the next day it was hand delivered to SoCal Motorcycle for installation the following day during my 25K service. The kit comes complete with a Victory switch (see photo below), spot lights, wiring, and mounting hardware with a photo of the installed kit on the Victory Cross Country Tour.

 

For your convenience, here is the link to the Wolf LED VCC light kit: http://www.wolfledsystems.com/Victory_2_5_HP_Systems_Kit_p/v1025-sqb.htm

 

I knew that the installation would be a little different with my early model VCC and the forged highway bars but I had every confidence that Mike would be able to come up with something and he did not disappoint me while completely meeting my expectations. In fact, the installation looks factory designed using the cruiser peg holes which can still be used for pegs, and it kept the lights inside the lines of the bike just as I had envisioned. I am ecstatic!

 There is nothing like having people as passionate about bikes and service as we are about having and riding them. Kudos to Scot and Kristopher at Wolf LED and to Mike and John at SoCal Motorcycles.

Thanks for making me even happier with my bike. Keep the iron side up.

 

The Switch
 

 

 

  Inside the lines

< -Lights off
















Lights on!

The Road to Red Kettle

Riders meeting outside of the Red Kettle

It all started with Ken’s innocent question on the Southern California Victory Rider Facebook page, “Is anyone riding Saturday?” 83 comments later a ride was loosely organized. We made our way to a meet point at Moreno Valley’s Bravo Burger in the Inland Empire (IE) from all over the Southland – Anaheim, Ontario, La Crescenta, right there in Moreno Valley, as well as other exotic locations. I bought lunch for the rider coming furthest to the meet point and I enjoyed every bite. We road in on Victory Visions, Cross Countries (VCC), and a couple of Harleys; 10 riders on 9 bikes with 5 men and 5 women, as even a distribution as I’ve seen.

 

I arrived before 9 a.m. for the 9:30 meet because I missed the thread about the pre-meet meet point for 9 and worried myself a bit that I’d be riding solo for the day until Tim showed up on his new red and blacked out VCC with less than 1000 miles on it. His was the bike that we most talked about for the day, pretty, shinny, and new with an excited rider; Tim is a good fit with the group. Once the pre-meet group joined us we caught up a bit, ragged on a couple of riders who bailed on the day’s ride and elected Brad to lead us out. This was my first chance to get to know Brad and I was amazed to hear the story of his boating mishap if you can call a 200MPH drag boat crash a mishap. He is still in recovery but couldn’t resist and little ride to feel the wind whip by and see the road roll on. Two other riders of note for me were Dale and Vicki who had finished up a two-week Sturgis Rally adventure totaling over 4500 miles and still showed up for our day ride. Honors to Vicki, Dale, and Brad with kudos to Tim for his new ride.

 

We mounted up and filed out of the parking lot and easily fell into a nice tight staggered riding formation as Brad led us to a quick fuel stop at Sam’s Club where he treated us to gas. Well, he used his membership card and we paid for ourselves. That being done we fell back into formation and took a short freeway hop to Highway 243 and on up into the San Jacinto Mountains toward Idyllwild. 243 is a two-lane mountain road which had been closed just the day before due to a relatively small wildfire of which we saw evidence in burned out brush and chard trees on and off during the earlier miles of the 243 hop; even some burned out out-buildings with the residences saved by heroic acts from the firefighters.

 

I’ve only been on a handful of group rides and it really struck me on this ride how easily we fell into riding formations from the staggered formation of the freeways and surface streets to single file along the technical mountain road run. I was about mid-pack and we looked like a snake winding its way along a mountain trail with Brad setting a nice pace and with a solid riding line through the curves. After a while we had two sub groups, one a little faster than the other with me in the second group. I never once rode out of my comfort zone, neither too slow nor too fast but at a nice relaxed pace. Once in a while a rider would feel like stretching it out and testing himself and his bike (Tim) and that worked out just fine as well.

 

Lunch was at the Red Kettle in Idyllwild and there were a number of bikes already there and more passing by every minute; this is an obvious destination spot for day riders. We found enough space to park in and backed the bikes up helping each other up the graveled incline. I sat across from Ken and next to Brad where I heard Brad’s story and got to know the other riders a little better. Good food, good ride, better people.

 

We congregated outside and held an impromptu meeting of the riding minds and ended up adding two more riders, a couple with one on a Victory Kingpin and the other on a Cam-Am Spyder. We headed down to the valley for a final group stop at Tom’s Farm just off Highway 15 with a short stop to regroup in Hemet at 112 degrees Fahrenheit. We lucked into a good parking area with shade and a couple of pick-a-nick benches where we could hydrate and continue the personal interaction. I love sitting on the edges of a group and observing everyone and the easy conversations and comradery that appeared to be an extension of the natural way we fell into riding with each other. At one point Ken commented to me about the quiet way I had about me. Quiet waters? Could be, but I do enjoy a mountain ride or running rapids and I suppose I’ll break out sometime.

 

Thanks for the ride folks, and even better, the community. Keep the iron side up.