Ghost Riders Epic America Tour 2016

[fmlstewart]

Such a grand title. The report will not live up to the title, but I'll explain it a little later...

It's been quite a while since I posted anything. Sometimes, a break from anything can be a good thing. I wasn't going to do a report. I was just going to add some pics on someone else's report. Karla did a fine job of recapping the adventure. However, I thought it might be rude of me hijack someone else's report, and honestly, a large part of my ride was really not part of the Arctic Bound Bama Bums 2016 tour. So, here's my version. People have asked me about the Ghost Rider thing. One of my biggest influences as a kid playing drums in garage bands was Neil Peart. Neil lost his daughter and his wife very close together and as therapy, he decided to spend some time touring North America on his bike. He took a pic of his bike on it's center stand in the middle of the road and noted it looked like the bike was being ridden by a ghost. So he titled his book, Ghost Rider. I stole the idea from Neil...





Since the others have pretty much told the story, I won't recap much. I'll just try to share my perspective. So ten years ago, I planned to take this trip with some coworkers. We planned and prepped, saved and set our dates. I got a passport. Then my mom got sick, and all the planning went out the window. I had to accept I'd have to take the trip some other time. It's crazy how you can plan a trip right down to the last detail, and it still falls apart. And then there are those trips that just seem to fall into place. Last year, (2015), Allen Goodwin randomly mentioned he wanted to plan a trip to Alaska in 2017. I suggested 2016, 9 months later, we did the trip. It's been my experience, the trips that somehow randomly fall into place, just seem to be meant to be. They usually end up the best trips. Sometimes just letting things happen is easier than forcing them to happen. More on that later...

[Brian A]

I've been hoping you would do this.

[fmlstewart]

Just knowing you were Brian, is the only reason I'm doing this! Just as Neil was one of my drumming influences, you are one of my riding/ ride report writting influences!http://bamarides.com/ride/Smileys/default/huh.gif

I think the video has already been posted, but it's a fitting start.

Karla told me if I highlighted my link and clicked on the YouTube icon in the menu, it would show the video in the post. When I click on the icons in the menu bar, nothing happens. As usual, I seem to have broken something. Maybe someone can fix it. If not, just skip it. It's already been posted I think...

So, loaded and rolling. From my driveway in Moody Alabama, to the Arctic Circle.



Originally, there were a handful of people set to go on this trip. Just like I did ten years ago, they had to abandon the plan. However, Ryan Lozier took the time to put together a route. I had just gotten a new GPS and Software, so I stole Ryans route, played around with it, and loaded it into my GPS.

I do not lead many rides. Any really. At work, I am responsible for a station, two lieutenants over two crews of four to five guys, training for my shift, my own crew of five guys, and occasionally a shift of up to 23 guys. When I say I am responsible, I really mean making sure a check sheet is checked off, or reports are done. But occasionally, not very often, I'm responsible for making decisions that may put guys in danger. A bad decision could literally get a firefighter, or a whole crew killed. Maybe more importantly, every decision a leader makes will effect one or more guys lives. Asking a guy to do a task that is dangerous is just part of the job. The guys understand that and willingly take that risk. But, if I do something that makes a guys day more difficult, he may go home in a bad mood. His wife and kids don't get the best version of him that day. That's partly my fault. It's my responsibility to try to help every body I'm over be the best version of themselves they can be. I'm going to let people down on a regular basis. That's just the nature of things. But, it bothers me more than I like to admit. So, the last thing I want to do is get away from all that responsibility to take an awesome motorcycle trip, and then assume any responsibility for anyone other than myself. This is why I usually don't travel well with others. I prefer to adventure solo, but sometimes, a group is a better way to go. So, when I showed up with a new GPS and a preloaded route, I found myself "nominated" to lead. Damn technology. Thanks Ryan Lozier!

The Navy Seals have a saying, "There are no bad boat crews, only bad boat crew leaders." I don't know if I have a "switch", training, instinct, brain damage, whatever...but when we rolled out the Waffle House parking lot, the mission became, get this group to the Arctic Circle without incident. We had a lot of miles to cover, a limited number of days to cover them, and a "planned route". The plan included campgrounds we had identified ahead of time. If we missed our mileage goal for a day, that meant finding another campground, where Wi-Fi might not be available, after a long day of riding. Nobody wants to be searching for a campground, at midnight. We had to push forward. We needed to do those miles...

When I left home I unplugged from social media and became stress free. A motorcycle helmet may compress your skull, but it will decompress your brain. I found myself thinking about things I hadn't had time to think about in years. I missed my mom and dad, both have been gone for over 6 years. I missed our three dogs we had to put down within a ten week period. One of the hardest years of my life. I've heard people describe your brain as an iceberg. There's only so much room for penguins. For one to climb on, one's got to go. It's probably a good thing I can't remember which penguins I've lost over the lost, but some of them have apparently gotten lost in the crowd while others have been aggressively pushing and shoving. I guess sometimes you've got to push a few off to give the others a chance to breath. After the first few days, I checked in on Karlas and Allens Spots to make sure my wife could track us. I noticed some comments about how hard we were pushing. (Uh oh. Am I pushing to hard?)

When I retire, I'm going to run for mayor...

[fmlstewart]

Everything, in moderation...



This was a wise dog indeed. He called me over to his vehicle, and reminded me, everything, in moderation...

Funny thing about vastness. There's a lot of it. My wife and I had the chance to go to Paris this summer. I loved the landscape in France. Rolling hills and tree lines. I couldn't help but wonder what the U.S. soldiers thought of it, knowing that there were Germans there trying to kill them. The circumstances in which you experience things, are the most influential part of the experience. The landscape in Eastern Canada seemed to be very much like France. Rolling green hills, tree lines, and Canola fields. It was beautiful, and vast. Eastern Canada is so vast, it makes vast places, seem...not vast. It was beautiful, until it wasn't any more. I wonder if the residents of vast eastern Canada still think it is beautiful...

It seems the Canadian interstates were designed around the fuel range of a typical adventure bike. "Towns", consisting of a gas station, some type of refinery or industrial business, and about 20 houses, and that's it, are about 150 miles apart. Sometimes, you just want to stop and get a cup of coffee. Well, you've got another 150 miles to go. Two hours, before you will have an opportunity to stop, take a piss, get gas, a cup of coffee. Then back on the bike, for another 150 miles...repeat...Yeah, it was beautiful, 150 miles at a time, but sometimes, especially when it's cold and raining, you just want to stop and get a damn cup of coffee. But nope, not for another 150 miles! But, it's soooo beautiful...
Speaking of rain, it rained 13 of the first 16 days of this trip. We rode in the rain. We camped in the rain. We broke camp in the rain. We packed up wet gear in the rain. I don't mind doing any of these things occasionally. As my buddy Weimer said...everything, in moderation.

(Note to whoever - if you're planning this trip, skip eastern Canada. Go west to the Rockies, turn north.)



When you get to Dawson Creek (not Dawson's Creek, it's not that place, it's a different place...), you'll see this giant sign telling you that you are about to head down the World Famous Alaska Highway! Please, do not forget the vastness! You're nowhere near Alaska...

I will say, the farther west we went in Canada, the better the landscape and scenery got.



You just have to look past the road construction.



For those who have a hard time interpreting political speak of today's politicians, let me interpret a couple of things for you. When they say the jobs numbers are up and the government has "created" jobs. "Shovel ready" jobs. What they're saying is, " we are spending billions of your tax dollars on road construction!" We say road construction every 300yds! Not really...however, we did see road construction, multiple sites, in EVERY SINGLE STATE WE WENT THROUGH. I WENT THROUGH 19 STATES!!! Jobs?!? Sure, for six months, but that's enough to claim they created jobs and got the numbers up! I saw highways being repaved, that were in better shape than most "new" highways in Alabama. It really was completely ridiculous. TAKE NOTE - It is impossible to travel through Alaska, without riding long sections of dirt, gravel, and mud, while following pilot cars and 137 RV's...

Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of beautiful sights to see...




Not that I'm a beautiful sight to see, but my wife gets mad if I don't appear in at least a few of my trip pics...

Quick story - I was rolling a GoPro sometimes, and taking still pics with my phone. My phone is Bluetoothed to my SENA com unit in my helmet. I listened to the same 700 songs about 6 times during the trip. So, speaking of beautiful sights, I'm rolling along and happen to see some mountains I thought looked cool. I reach into my tank bag and grab my phone to take a pic. I've done this a hundred times before. Just make sure you have a good grip and keep one eye on the road. AND, don't let the phone angle enough to catch the wind...I have a Motorola Droid Turbo II. I just got it after my Casio G zone Commando started getting glitchy. The Commando is the first phone I've had a whole two years that I didn't destroy. Apparently, I'm tough on a phone. I was afraid the Turbo II wouldn't be durable enough to handle this trip, so I reactivated my  Commando just before I left, but the battery life was horrible, so I reactivated the Turbo II and carried to Commando just in case. Somewhere in Canada, I took a picture of these mountains, and bam, my phone flies out of my death grip. I'm already saying, before I look in the mirror and see three bikes and two trucks behind me, "well, that phones destroyed...". So I pull a quick U-turn, assuming someone has already run over it, and I spot the phone in the middle of the road, with two 18 wheelers bearing down on it. I slam the throttle, and take the trucks head on in a race to the phone. Of course, I beat them to it and soccer kick it off the side of the road. As I'm pulling over, I reach up to pause the music. Yeah, that's what I thought, I'm still hearing music. How the hell is that possible? I walk over to the phone, bend over to pick it up, and see it's face up, and there's not a scratch on it! The camera is still on. No, unfortunately it didn't spontaneously take any pics or video of the event, but it's still on. I pick it up and take a picture of the mountains just as Tony pulls up. He says, "don't tell me that damn thing still works!" Why yes Tony, not only is it still working, it doesn't have a scratch on it. The back cover I put on it, a well spent $12, is scratched and cracked in a couple of places, but the phone itself, not a freakin' scratch. Motorola Turbo II ladies and gentlemen!

Canada, hates me...

[fmlstewart]

I spent most of the first week of this trip focusing intently on my speedo and the 'distance to destination' on my GPS.( Usually somewere around 150 miles...) I knew I was pushing. We were getting started late, we were riding into the night. The farther north we went, the less we had to worry about that. It stopped getting dark. But, riding until 10 or 11 before getting to camp was not smart. But we needed to get there, accomplish the mission, and then we had plenty of time to do and see what we wanted. I usually ride too fast. 80 to 85 is normal for me on the interstate. Stay ahead, stay alive! And I ride a lot, so I'm conditioned to ride long hours. I stayed focused on my speed and made an effort to stay five miles an hour over the limit. We had to make time, but not get busted. In freakin' Canada...the speed limit is like 63mph. It was killing me, but I couldn't help thinking, am I pushing to hard...

The top of the world to Dawson City and Chicken, Alaska.







The Top of The World Highway is awesome! I highly recommend it! It is clearly the best way to get from Canada into Alaska. And then there's Chicken Alaska.



These are residents of Chicken. They reside between the Café and the Bar...

I love camping. I especially love camping off a bike. Freakin' love it, even though I usually don't sleep well camping. They say firefighters suffer from what they call, hypervigilance that keeps you from really relaxing and getting into to deep sleep. Since the pager is in my bunkroom, I am responsible for hearing the call come out, and determining if it is our station or not. If not, I reset the pager so we can all go back to sleep. So even when I'm sleeping, I'm listening, if that makes sense. Something strange happened on this trip. With the aid of Tylenol PM, I slept like a rock. I slept through the worst storm Tony has ever camped in. We nearly lost him to Lightening Lake. Hammocks have their limitations Tony! While the trees Tony tied his hammock in were nearly ripped out of the ground and hurled into the next county, I slept like I was in a coma. Brain decompression...

By the time we hit the Top of The World Highway and crossed into Alaska, I had put the vastness of Canada behind me and was totally loving the mountains. Awesome.

We finally made to Fairbanks. The place I considered "staging" for the final push to mission accomplishment. Of course, it was raining. We decided to take a rest day in a nice hotel in Fairbanks with a nice Bar and Grill attached. So after a good nights sleep, and resting most of the day, we went to dinner together that night. And there it was...that nagging voice in my head saying, "you're so close...what are you waiting on?" I kept checking the radar. There were some slight breaks in the storms coming. But damn, we had been riding in the rain for days. At least we were in a hotel. So I made my case. If we waited until the next day, we would ride to the sign and back in the rain, then have to roll on out of Fairbanks that afternoon. We had plenty of daylight, it wasn't going to get dark. If we dumped our gear in the hotel, we could head out after dinner, make the run 200 miles up, 200 miles back, be back at the hotel around midnight ( or so ), still get a good nights sleep, and make the turn around the next day, headed back south, mission accomplished. And so we did...

I had a blast making that run with these guys that night. Proof, mission...accomplished.


The dread, feared, loathed, and fabled Dalton Highway.








Mission accomplished in nine days, but we had so much farther to go...

NOTE TO WHOEVER - just because the sun never sets, doesn't mean all the gas stations stay open!

( I swear I highlighted the link and clicked on the icon. no joy...)

[Yankee Dog]

Hell.  I NEVER read ride reports. But I read every word.  Between you and Karla the rest of us might as well throw in the towel.  What a philosopher.  We need to get together and drink some time. 


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Chitza]

Don't throw in the towel. Be inspired :)

Lincoln, I'm so glad you are posting your perspective. I'm enjoying every word even though I was there for 14 days.

[fmlstewart]

We definitely should John!

With the Arctic Circle pic on my phone, I felt I had accomplished what I set out to accomplish. We had not investigated camp sights for the return trip. I had assumed we would be hitting some of the same ones back out of Alaska and Canada, but I also knew the return route was not really set. We were going to meander...
I'm sure the rest of the group had the same feeling of accomplishment I had. Once we no longer had a target. No red cape, we no longer had the same drive to charge forward and, we all started to "lose focus". Issues had developed that lead to distractions as well. Karla had pet sitter issues. Her attentions turned to home. Tony started doing the math and realized he could make it home and save some of his off time. I'll admit, I lost focus as well. While Karla and Tony were thinking about how fast they could get home, I started thinking about the fact that I still had over two weeks before I had to be back at work, I was as far Northwest as I could get, with the entire country between me and home. The possibilities were awesome and intriguing. I started to think about the states I hadn't seen, the states and sights I could see, and what direction was the fastest route out of the cold wet vast great white north! I also figured if Karla and Tony split, Allen and Melony might enjoy some time "alone". And so each of us started to contemplate our options. First we all had to get the hell out of Fairbanks. The clouds were obscuring anything else we might want to see, like most of Denali Park. So we passed it up, but the Denali Highway was right on our way. It turned out to be one of the best roads we would see.





We stopped at a rest stop on the Denali Hwy and talked to a German rider on a GS1200 that was touring North America and a couple on Mountain bikes that had toured Europe and Australia, and were doing North America before heading to Asia. They had been traveling for two years.

We worked our way back across Alaska and a quarter of Canada over the next five or six days. During that time, Karla made arrangements to get home, Tony put together a route back home, Al and Mel planned to hit Jasper National Park, and I decided to head south the first chance I got. And so we did...

Canada takes it's parting shot...

Most gas stations make you prepay. We stopped at a gas station in somethehellwhere Canada ( Bell II I think ) and I pulled forward past the pump to leave room for Tony to pull up behind me. As I got off the bike the gomer in the truck pulling the airstream beside me started pumping gas on PUMP # ONE. While he pumped gas, I took my credit card inside to prepay. I told the girl I would be on PUMP # ONE. She pointed out that someone was already on PUMP # ONE. I informed her that I was aware of that and that when that individual finished I would be on PUMP # ONE, and that my friend would be on PUMP  # TWO. I walked back out as the gomer finished up and started walking inside to pay. As I finished pumping my gas and headed inside to pay, he walked past me and drove off. When I got inside the girl asked me what pump I was on. I replied...you guessed it...PUMP # ONE. She retrieved the credit card stuck in the piece of 2X4 that held customer credit cards. It had two slots. One for PUMP # ONE, and one for PUMP # TWO. The card she grabbed from the PUMP #  ONE slot was red. My card is blue. I said calmly, that's not my card. She put it back into the PUMP # ONE slot, and grabbed the PUMP # TWO slot card, which happened to be a Uiversity of Alabama Crimson Tide card, which was also red...No ma'am, that's not my card. There just so happened to be one more card laying on the counter. No ma'am, that's not my card either. She calls the manager and they begin to search. I have already begun to figure out what has happened. Two people, clearly experiencing the bliss of ignorance, fell victim to the curse Canada had placed on me. One victim had taken my card and instead of keeping it separated from the one already in the PUMP # ONE slot, she had apparently already swapped the cards. Victim number one had handed victim number two my card after she charged his fuel on my card. Victim number two, thoroughly enjoying the ignorance of bliss, took my BLUE card from victim number one, and blissfully placed my BLUE card in his wallet and left the store. Leaving his RED card in the PUMP # ONE slot. I "directed" the manager to call the number on gomers card and tell them what had happened and see if they had a contact number for gomer, since I figured he might want his card back as much as I wanted mine. The manager had also fell victim to Canada's curse and simply ignored my "direction" while I jumped on my bike, assumed that since his truck was pointed south in the parking lot, he must be headed south, and I proceeded to discovered just how much I could push those Heidenau K60's on wet roads. After 40 Kilometers, daring Canada to do her worst, I decided gomer had gone the other way, and my card was gone. Canada had it, and was not going to give it back without a fight. Damn you Canada. I hate you too! Luckily, Tony had some extra Canadian money, who the hell calls their money, Looney Tooneys?!? Stupid Canada...So I bought some of his silly Canuck cash. Just enough to get the hell out of freakin' Canadia!

When we all parted ways, part of me felt the trip had officially ended, but my own new journey had just begun. That's when I decided to call this new journey Ghost Riders Epic America Tour 2016. Ironically, the rain ended, and it started to get hotter. I had committed to getting out of Canada as fast as possible, but this last day in Canada would turn out to be perfect. Bite me Canadia!!! Hwy 101 down the west coast of Canada, is freakin' awesome!

NOTE TO WHOEVER - Vancouver is the only part of Canada worth risking a border crossing to see...




I ended up a doing a little over 650 miles and escaped Canada at about 11:15 that night. I was ready for a hotel, a shower, a good breakfast, and to start my journey across America. I still hadn't decided exactly where I was going. I started to consider two possibilities, Southeast to see the Grand Canyon, or stay north and see Rushmore and the Badlands. I had three days to figure it out while I enjoyed some of the west coast...

[fmlstewart]

A pirate looks at 40...

Jimmy Buffet apparently felt he was destined to be a pirate in the 1500's but was unfortunately born 400 years too late. "The cannons don't thunder, there's nothing to plunder, I'm an over 40 victim of fate..." Oh, how many times have I felt the same Jimmy. Except, I'm no sailor...

It took me 10 years to get to Alaska after I started planning to go. I took me over 30 years to get to the West Coast after I started planning that trip. As I mentioned earlier, I was influenced by Neil Peart. And... Peter Criss, Eric Carr, John Bonham, Alex Van Halen, Carmine Appice, Nicco McBrain, Stewart Copeland, and Tommy Lee. Just to name a few...My plan throughout high school was to graduate, load my kit into my mom's VW van, and head to California. And then I met a girl. As fate would have it, she wasn't "The girl", but girl enough to change the course of my life. Three years later I had a 10 year contract with the Air Force to be a pilot. No, that didn't work out either, and at 47, I still had never been to the West Coast, of the U.S. So, there I was, in Washington state, with time to kill.

The Northern west coast is absolutely beautiful. If I didn't hate rain and snow so much, I'd consider retiring there. After a couple of weeks in the cold rain, this was a welcome change.






I spent the next couple of days taking it all in. Hwy 101 along the coast is a curvy mountain road that offers some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. I found a "great little seafood place" ( no not that place... ) and had the best meal I'd had the entire trip. Clam chowder and of course, fish and chips, with a local brew listed on the menu as "Random Dead Guy Beer", brewed by Rogue Brewery. I loved every bite and sip of it while enjoying my view of a bay.





Cheers Jimmy!

Of course, I had to camp in my own town...



And I ran across a pretty cool military air museum along the way.

A Tiger, and a Tomcat!



Quite unintentionally, I found myself getting gas in downtown Seattle. Being the music fan I am, I wondered how close I was to where Courtney Love had Kurt Cobain drugged and murdered. Turns out I was only 3 miles away. But honestly, I was not a big Nirvana fan and Courtney had the house torn down to get rid of the evidence, so I skipped the detour. However, I pull out of the gas station, go a few blocks down the street and stop and a redlight. A Hispanic hooker with a bag of groceries asked if I could give her a ride. I advised her I didn't have room. While I was trying to get away from her, I looked up and realized I was sitting right in front of a Triumph dealership! Not a lot of those around these days, so I pulled around the back and parked. I peeled my gear off and walked around to the front entrance thinking I'd buy a t-shirt. Then I realized, it was freakin' Monday and the place was closed. Damn it...



I saw the Redwood Forest. I didn't find it all that impressive. Just big trees...





I camped near the Redwood Forest. They had recently cut down a redwood in the campground. Mountain Dew can for reference.



Apparently, they're hollow in the center and there is a significant cavity. I could've put a basketball in there.
Just south of the Redwood forest I ran across this herd of Elk. Notice the name of park they just happened to be meandering around.



This jackass was rolling right past them before he ever even noticed they were there. Had one stepped out in front of him, he would've be a startled pile of wadded riding gear before he knew what he'd hit.



As soon as I crossed over into California, I could tell, I was in California. There were homeless hippies at the first gas station I came across. That was unfortunate. What was even more unfortunate, were these ridiculous cones California requires on all their gas nozzles to minimize fuel vapors escaping into the fragile atmosphere.



Triumph places a fuel sensor directly under the filler neck in the Tigers tank ( because where else would put a sensor ). To keep you from hitting the sensor with the nozzle, Triumph put a tiny plastic guard in the filler hole.



This little guard makes it impossible to push the nozzle into the filler hole far enough to push the Earth Saving vapor cone up and activate the pump. So you have to hold the cone up with one hand while squeezing the handle with the other ensuring you will spill some fuel onto your tank, your hands, and precious Mother Earth. Sorry California, I polluted your concrete with fuel and your air with fuel vapor. Thanks for playing though!

Random west coast pics...






My last morning on the west coast was pretty foggy and chilly.



I rode south to Fort Bragg, decided I had seen enough of California, then turned east. Within seven miles of the coast, 10 minutes east, the fog cleared, and the temp rose about 30 degrees. It got hot quick. This helped me decide which way I was going to go. Definitely not south! That and the fact that Allen and Melony had gotten caught up in a hail storm and were still in Canada made it an easy decision. We decided to meet up in the Badlands. We started together, and now we would get the chance to finish together. But I still had a lot of miles to go...

[Brian A]

I am enjoying your RR. I think this was your best update yet.
Maybe because I know the Buffet song well and have shared your thoughts many times.

You are into telling your story now.

Keep 'em coming......

[fmlstewart]

Ghost Rider rediscovers he's a goof...

Did I mention I'm a music fan. I wouldn't really say I'm a musician, per say. I taught myself to play drums at 8 years old listening to Kiss albums. In college, the drums were a bit much for a dorm room, so I taught myself to play acoustic guitar with...you guessed it, a Jimmy Buffet guitar book. I've attempted piano, harmonica, and mandolin, I've written and recorded a few songs and generally appreciate any music with a beat. The problem is, I'm a drummer. I play guitar, like a drummer who knows a few guitar chords. Being a rhythm kind of guy, in my younger days, I was a pretty decent dancer. Yes, Ghost Rider had some moves in college. That was 25 years and 50 pounds ago. My music collection on my phone has everything from Godsmack to Toby Lightman. Metallica to Jewel. Lynard Skynard to Leona Lewis. Country Darius Rucker to Hootie and the Blowfish! If you've ever followed me on a bike you may have noticed I fidget, and my legs are usually moving. If there's music playing, and there usually is, I'll subconsciously be playing the drum line in one way or another. I even grind my teeth in beat. In fact, if my music isn't on, I'm constantly grinding out rhythms with my teeth. It drives my wife crazy. So why am I explaining this nonsense? Well, I was listening to music, when this song hit me. I won't tell you what it was for the shame of it all, but it made me laugh at myself. Ghost Rider hasn't laughed at himself in a while...

I should probably tell you all how incredible my wife is for letting me take such a long trip. She put up with me being deployed for months at a time. She put's up with me working 24 and 48 hour shifts. She knows how much money I spend on my hobbies, and she never complains. She asks for very little and put's up with a lot. She makes my adventures possible, and always brings me home again. In my moment of goofiness, I decided to do something for her. She sometimes asks me to dance for her like I used to, but I'm a grumpy old guy and those days are long gone. But there I was...full Ghost Rider gear, on the beautiful west coast overlooks, breakin' it down like I was 22 and had slammed a few Yeager bombs. People must've thought I had lost my everlovin' mind. But, I will never see those people again, and I knew I could make my wife laugh. I took several video clips and spliced them all together to make her a dance video. It's freakin' silly as hell and pretty hilarious. And no one else will ever see it...

I called my wife and told her I was turning east. I would blast through California that afternoon and stop somewhere past Reno Nevada. The next day I would finish out Nevada, Utah, and make it into Wyoming in a day. Then, I planned to Cross Wyoming and South Dakota and meet Allen and Melony in the Badlands. She told me not to rush, and to see what I wanted to see, because it would be a while before I took another month long trip out west!

Eastern California, and the Nevada desert.





The most important thing to remember is, don't feed them after midnight and don't let them get wet...

( somebody's gonna get that...)

Crossing the Nevada desert on a bike when it's 108 degrees is miserable. Sitting at a temporary stop light, for road construction, when there is no one in sight, in the Nevada desert, when it's 108 degrees, is just stupid, so I didn't do it... I felt like my head was going to pop off inside my helmet. Nevada is cool ( I mean it looks cool, it was definitely not cool, it was freakin' hot ) and it reminded me of every western I've ever seen. Such a brutal place to live, but I tried to imagine what it would've been like to live there, and run a ranch, before technology made us "soft". Those people didn't whine about entitlements. They appreciated freedom over everything else. Gun control was not a big issue as a weapon was absolutely necessary for survival. Maybe it was the heat, but I started to hate what so much of American society has become. Ironically, it was just about that time, I found myself riding the bumper of shriveled millennial penis driving a Prius, in the left lane, right beside an 18 wheeler, who wanted to move over so he could pass the 18 wheeler in front of him slowing to a blistering 45 mph up a long hill. It seemed the penis' happy place was shoulder to shoulder with the trucks coupling, so it was very careful to match the trucks speed perfectly, as we all slowed to a crawl. All I will say is, I "passed" the Prius and the truck, and thanked the penis for being such a careful driver. As I gained on the next 18 wheeler at slightly over the 80mph speed limit, a truck pulling a goose neck decided he wanted to be in the left lane, RIGHT FREAKIN' NOW, and into the left lane he came. Nevada, must share a hatred for me with Canada. Nevada tried to kill me in traffic, and with crazy heat. I found myself stopping every 50 to 75 miles just to find some air conditioning. I'd stroll around a gas station for 20 trying to cool off. I even went into a Boot Barn, grabbed a pair of boots of the shelf, and sat down in a chair pretending consider buying the boots for nearly an hour. I might have actually dozed of for a few minutes. I spent months in the desert and saw temps of 140+, but this heat was beating me down. So, I stopped for dinner, took my time eating, and decided to make my mileage after the sun went down. And so I did...

It was late afternoon what I crossed into Utah. If you've ever wanted to know what nothing looks like, visit western Utah's salt flats. Nothing. No plants. No animals. Nothing grows there or wants to live there. The highway is as straight and flat as contractors level. There were signs displaying how many people died in traffic accidents on that highway in 2015. Thirteen people. 15 in 2014, and so on. I wondered how the hell somebody could get killed on a highway that has this much visibility and no curves. Then I started seeing the signs warning of fatigue and drowsiness while driving. At that point I had ridden about 300 of the hottest miles I had ever ridden. I was smoked, dehydrated, and bored. I suddenly realized how so many people died on that highway. BTW, that would be the Lincoln Highway. Ironic? As it got dark, I pushed into eastern Utah and climbed into the mountains. Of course, I didn't know that since it was pitch black. I didn't realize I was going into the mountains until the temps started to fall dramatically. From 108 to about 40 in a day. Freakin' ridiculous. As I approached Salt Lake City I noticed two extremely bright lights in the sky. I thought maybe they were tower lights on top of the mountain, but then I realized they were moving. An airplanes lights hitting the clouds? No. Then I realized what I thought was light hitting the clouds was actually the tails of two meteors burning into the atmosphere. The longest I've ever seen a comet cross the sky was in Daytona, sitting on the patio of a hotel, drinking a beer with Brian, Mike, Kevin, and Glenn. Another awesome motorcycle trip. That one lasted about 30 seconds or so. These, that were multiple pieces, two large ones and hundreds of smaller ones trailing, burned through the sky for over two minutes. It was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen...I crossed into Wyoming and stopped in Evanston WY for the night.

The next day I needed to cross Wyoming and part of South Dakota so I could meet the Goodwin's in the Badlands. I had a 650 mile day ahead of me, in crazy heat. I tried to leave out early but didn't get rolling until about 9. I tucked in and just rode. This droning highway and lack of focus almost bit me in the ass. I had planned to push hard before it got to hot and knock out 150 + miles before I stopped. At 135 miles or so, my fuel light came on. I didn't even notice since it came on so early, but the cross winds and the fact that I was running about 90 took a toll on my fuel mileage. before I knew it, my range was showing 6 miles and the next town was over 25 miles up the road. The last thing I wanted to do was push a bike down the interstate 20 miles in 100 degree temps. I got lucky and hit an exit that had gas. The next service was about 120 miles away.

I finally crossed over into South Dakota and started trying to figure out where I needed to meet Allen and Melony. Ironically, The closer I got to them, the closer I got to some nasty storms. And then I rode through them. I can't say I minded since I had been riding in 100+ degree temps for days and the cooler rain felt awesome. Luckily, I rode through them and came back out the other side. That would be the last rain I would see until Mississippi, near the Alabama state line. When I realized how close they were to Rushmore, I decided to go ahead and see it before I met up with them at the campground. When you're doing 650+ mile days, 93 more miles just doesn't really seem like a big deal...They already had a spot for me. So, I ran up the mountain to take a look and snap a pic. On the south side of the mountain, these goats wandered into the road and stopped traffic in both directions until the little ones cleared the road. They didn't seem to be in a hurry.




The mother had a collar on that I assumed was a GPS tracker. If I hadn't stopped for the goats, I wouldn't have realized I could get a glimpse of Wahington's profile from there.



And I didn't pay to park in the lot. I just pulled off the road and shot my pic from there, but it's a lot bigger than the picture makes it appear.



By the time I entered the Badlands National Park where the Goodwin's were waiting, the sun was starting to set. I marveled at the rock formations and started to think about how it must've felt to be U.S. Calvary soldier riding through those mountains and canyons knowing there were Indians in those hills watching you the whole time. Waiting for an opportunity to ambush and kill the white invaders. I suddenly realized it was getting dark, and I hadn't seen another vehicle in over 70 miles on this desolate road. It was an eery feeling. I'm not sure I mentioned it, but I had my tinted visor on my helmet this whole trip. I really didn't think I'd be riding much at night. ( Hahahahahahahahaha!!!) I will admit, I had ridden hundreds of miles, at night, at 80+ mph, but on this road, I began to consider the fact that I had not passed another car for over an hour. If I were to hit a deer or an antelope on this road I may lay out here for hours. I slowed it down. For the first time this trip, I became, extremely cautious. It paid off, as I nearly hit a deer carcass dead center in my lane. God was watching out for me!

I rolled into the campground around 10 I think. It was good to meet my friends Allen and Melony there. We had only parted about a week ago, but we had stories to share. We spent some time catching up, but then noticed how amazing the stars looked over South Dakota that night. So we spent a couple of hours just looking at the stars and catching glimpses of comets here and there, a few passing satelites, and vastness of the Milky Way. It was a good night.

[kdtrull]

The most important thing to remember is, don't feed them after midnight and don't let them get wet...

( somebodies gonna get that...)

Silly Ghost Rider, it's just a Gremlin.

[Guidedawg]

Bright light! Bright light!

[fmlstewart]

Nothing left to do but finish. So let's finish...

From Moody Alabama to Tunica Mississippi, through Alaska. Allen had stated earlier that their destination was actually Tunica. We talked about some options of places we might want to see, but between South Dakota and Alabama, nothing jumped out that we hadn't already seen. We got a good nights rest at the Badlands campground and the next morning road through the rest of the Badlands National Forest. The night before I was thinking about how it must've felt to travel through the mountains and canyons with hostile Indians around. In the light of day I realized you could hide an entire army in there and never be seen. It's the roughest most hostile terrain I've ever seen. TO confirm my concerns about riding too fast the night before, just as we were leaving the campground three deer, a momma and two youngins popped out of the grass and crossed the road right behind Allen and Melony. They didn't seem too concerned about the traffic and went on their way. a mile or two up the road a couple of campers had pulled over to look at a rattle snake coiled up in the middle of the road. It was just a reminder of how tough nature could be to deal with without our modern conveniences. The ride that morning was not too hot and I enjoyed the Badlands.

This landscape looks like the freakin' moon, or Mars, or someplace people just really shouldn't be. I wondered how similar this terrain was to Iraq or Afghanistan.









My new GPS has made me an idiot...

So I had the route to Alaska in my GPS, but I really didn't have a route home, so we would look Google maps and try to figure out about how far we needed to go each day, and then just pick a town to head for. I'd put that town in my GPS and just follow the blue arrow. Let me be clear about something right now, the entire 25 days I was on the road, I rarely knew where I was, what day it was, how long I had been gone, or how long I had to get back. I trusted that GPS like I was using "The Force" or something. When we first left I was keeping one eye on that thing at all times, but this late in the trip, I was getting tired of looking at it but if I went to long without looking down, we usually ended up doing a U-turn. We were all baking in the sweltering heat so basically I followed that blue arrow as long as my brain would let me, trying to get 150 miles or so before I stopped for fuel.
I don't remember what town we were trying to get to, but whatever it was, I missed it, yet somehow, no matter how many wrong turns I thought I took, we couldn't seem to get off of hwy49. Luckily, it took us where we wanted to go. We exited to get fuel in a little town called Sloan Iowa. While we were getting fuel, I suggested we go into Subway for dinner and see if we could locate a local campground. Allen looks over and spots and RV park right behind the gas station. So we walk over to inquire about a campsite. We spotted a sign for the RV park that said we should inquire inside "The Place - Laundromat, Lounge, and Family Restaurant". I had to laugh. Why would they list the Laundromat first? There was also a small motel attached to the compound. A sweet old lady owned the whole thing, we think, and we asked her if she had any tent sites. She told us a lady bike had passed through the week before and she just put her tent "out by the trees". Then she asked if we wanted access to the showers. Of course we did, so she said she would leave the shower unlocked for us. We found "the trees" she was talking about next to a soy bean field.  It turned out to be two rows of trees with really plush grass in between. It offered nice grass, the gas station was 300 yds away. The laundromat, lounge, and family restaurant was 100 yds away, and the shower was actually pretty nice and very clean. It turned out to be the best campground we had the whole trip, and the lady didn't even want any money! Allen offered her $20 just because it was definitely worth it. We had a decent meal and Allen and I had a few cold beers while Melony got a hot shower. I took a hot shower myself and once again, slept like a rock.






The next day we hit the interstate. It was clear, the sightseeing was over, the heat was killing us, and the only thing on all of our minds was burn the miles as quick as possible and get the days ride over with. We did a short day and stopped in Anderson Missouri at Indian Creek Campground. Again, we were amazed at the luck we had just stumbling up on another great campground. We thought we had the whole lower primitive camping area to ourselves. We were right next to a nice creek, Indian Creek, and had all the room we wanted and electrical access. Allen made a comment about a Ghost Rider pic in the creek...so I had to do ride into the creek. The gravel was way softer than I anticipated and I thought I was going to sink the Tiger, but after some coaxing, she came out o.k. About that time, a couple of guys straight out of deliverance came wondering down the creek. One wielding a machete. They made some comments about the bikes and wondered on down the creek about 100yds and disappeared into the trees. Ever so often, they would emerge from the trees in the same place, dragging a limb, or planning an attack, or eating crawfish, who knows what these hillbillies were up to, so I kept my knife close and kept my eyes and ears open. It was so freakin' hot, I walked down into the creek and just layed down for a while. The water was nice and cool, but as soon as I came out of the water, the mosquitos would go to work and I'd immediately be sweating again. We were all disappointed that we had such a nice campground but none of us got any sleep because it was just to hot.






No worries! We were headed for Tunica, and a hotel room with air conditioning!
We roasted yet again until we rolled up in front of Sams Town. These would be the nicest, and yet cheapest hotel rooms we had stayed in the whole trip.

Allen has the Midas Touch!

We ate a good dinner and Melony headed to bed. Allen and I went to play some poker. We found out they had closed their poker rooms down, so we found a 3card poker table. I couldn't win, and Allen couldn't lose! After a few hours I was down to one five dollar chip and a couple of singles, but I was still drinking cold beer and watching Allen win. So Allen slides a $5 dollar chip over and says play one more hand. BAM, I hit a flush. A few hands later, I hit trips! The rest of the night we drank beer and played with house money. When the dealer announced she was shuffling the last shoe, I realized it was 3a.m. Allen had snuck off, I was probably up nearly a case of beer, and was dead even for the night! I consider that a great night!

Last morning! I woke up and immediately realized the error of carb loading for to late into the evening. I only had about 250 miles to get home, but I was not looking forward to riding in 100 degree heat. We had breakfast, packed the bikes, said our goodbyes, and parted ways. Suffering through the heat, I could see dark clouds on the horizon but I just couldn't seem to catch them. Finally, just before the Alabama state line, I caught the clouds, and a massive downpour. It felt GREAT! And I rode that wave all the way to Moody. It stopped raining just as I got off I-20 in Moody. And just like that, Ghost Riders Epic America Tour 2016 came to an end.



My buddy Noggin welcomed me home and was snoring in my lap within 20 minutes of me walking in the door.



I spent two days stripping my bike, cleaning gear, and doing some maintenance. The bikes all did great and we had no issues whatsoever. That always makes things better.





Heidenau K60's after 12,000 miles. I was impressed with their wear and performance and I did play around just a little on the dirt roads in Alaska. Some of those roads were pretty rough. They whine a little bit until they wear in, and you've got to be aware that the compound is a little harder and is going to be a little bit of a compromise, especially in the rain, but I pushed them pretty hard trying to catch my credit card and I never had any "scares". I even drug pegs twice heading down the west coast and they never let me down.

So, what did I take away from this trip...
Everything in moderation. (Too much of a good thing, can be, and usually is, a bad thing.)
Don't over plan, don't over pack, don't push too hard, don't make excuses, don't force it, just let it happen.

[Brian A]

Bravo.
The trip and the tale.