I was upstate from Wednesday, 12/24 through Monday, 12/29. On Saturday, I received three motorcycle-related gifts: an amazing leather motorcycle jacket, lined leather gloves for cold-weather riding, and Long Way Round, Ewan McGregor's and fellow actor Charley Boorman's memoir of their motorbike trip around the world.
I was anxious to test out my new gear with a Sunday ride with my Dad. We intently watched the weather forecast on Saturday night and were slightly disappointed to hear a prediction of strong winds throughout the day and mild early morning temperatures dropping with rain moving in as the morning progressed.
I got up before 9:00 on Sunday and the weather was beautiful. I quickly headed over to my Dad's and we suited up. I borrowed a Large helmet and pushed it as far as it would go onto my Extra Large head (in other words, perched it up there and tightened the chin strap hard to hold it on). Good enough.
We backed my Dad's Harley Sportster 1200 and Pam's Vulcan 500 out of the garage and fired them up, and then I was riding a relatively new motorcycle for the first time. The smooth, steady and quiet purr of the Vulcan's engine was a fun departure from my bike, the similar 1980's bike on which my Dad first taught me the basics, and the little 250cc Suzuki that I rode in my MSF course. When I turned on the ignition, I couldn't even tell at first if it was on (it would have been easier if the Harley's big engine hadn't been rumbling right next to it). The shifter moved effortlessly as I accelerated through third gear, and when I looked at the speedometer expecting to see 35 or 40, I instead saw 60 (so much smoother, sounder and quieter at 60 than my bike at 40, I double-checked to make sure it was indicating mph and not kph).
There was hardly a car on the roads, the weather held and we rode for about 50 minutes, me smiling for every mile as we twisted up Route 13 past Chittenango Falls Park and into Cazenovia, past the lake, back along Ridge Road. The wind blew strong at times (you could probably say "fiercely" at others), pushing my helmet back off its balanced perch at times when we rode straight into it. The 500cc engine always felt sufficiently powered and I had to wonder how the Vulcan 900, with almost double the displacement, would feel.
I followed my Dad into a parking lot and he got off his Harley to switch rides with me. "She's a little edgier than that one," he said. "Blinkers are on each side and they cancel automatically." And again we were off.
I followed him out of the lot, gave the Harley a good twist of throttle as we turned onto the main road, and commented (this is a direct quote), "WHOOOOOOOOO!" The Sportster has two and a half times the engine (and volume) of anything I'd ridden previously, and had an awesome Big Bike feel that I appreciated with every acceleration, shift, and stop. The transmission shifted into each new gear with a deep and satisfying clunk and the throttle was delivered with a lot of enthusiasm and beautiful music from the big engine. I understood right away why Harley riders feel the way they do about Harleys.
On the way home, we rode toward some dark clouds that looked like they meant some business, but made it home before any rain started. The Motorcycle Gods were clearly smiling on us: as we stood in his gar-lage (gar-lodge?) to debrief on the ride, they presented to us a Labatt Blue box with two bottles sitting inside and calling our names ("Ol' Dad!" and "Danno!"). So on top of everything else, I experienced the joy of discovering another instance when it's perfectly acceptable to drink beer before noon. That will come in handy in the summer, when I don't do much camping and there aren't football tailgate parties.
As we recapped our ride, I told my Dad that this was my best ride yet for the following reasons:
1) At 43 miles, it was my longest ride yet.
2) It was my first ride on hilly, winding, hardly trafficked roads.
3) I got to ride the two nicest motorcycles I've ever used.
4) It was approximately the nicest weather in which I've ridden.
5) It was my first ride wearing appropriate protective gear (ill-fitting helmet notwithstanding).
6) I had plenty of gas and didn't strand myself on the side of the highway.
7) It was my first ride with Ol' Dad.
From my worst ride straight to my best one. Not a bad little turnaround.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
D - 483 Days: Some New Ideas (Back-posted)
Last night (and by "last night" I mean Wednesday, December 17th) I met up with my friend Jason for some black-and-tans and travel talk. Jason did a solo cross-country trip earlier this year and is a much better blogger than I am (start on this page and go from there), as well as an old friend who I don't see often. So we needed to talk.
Over beers at the Wheeltapper Pub near Grand Central, we covered quite a bit of ground. Jay supplied a recommended pre-trip reading list (I'll edit this post with the titles and URLs when I get home). We talked strategy. Discussed dealing with the inevitable bouts of loneliness on a long solo trip and his experience with the remarkable friendliness and openness of strangers on the road. His recommendation to try to avoid getting too many hours away from a city or a friend in case you just need to be around people at some point. Talked about the challenge of striking a balance between living and experiencing the trip while finding time to document it in a blog. Went over the must-see destinations, the importance of leaving plenty of time to take in the miscellaneous and the local en route from one featured stop to the next. The necessity of staying flexible and accommodating all of the unexpected. His finding (and that of the long-distance motorcyclists he met along the way) that people are especially fascinated by bikes with license plates from several states away and get really curious to know what they're doing and where they're going.
The topic of our discussion that I've spent the most time tossing around in my head is that of Couch Surfing (not sure if it's truly a Proper Noun or not). CouchSurfing.com is a website that brings travelers and couches together. Registered members of the site act as both hosts and guests. When you're at home, you open your home to travelers needing a place to stay when they pass through your town. In exchange, other members provide you with a place to crash when you're in their area. This form of social networking has been catching on over the last couple of years and has created a bit of a media buzz. The New York Times, which we know has impeccable judgment when it comes to identifying What the People Want to Know About, did a nice (if inferior to the one about me) article on Couch Surfing way back in 2007.
As you probably know, I love camping. But "camping" and "sleeping on the ground" are not quite the same thing. To me, camping means building the biggest, hottest fire that particular campground has ever seen; sitting around drinking beer with my friends; trying to get close enough to the inferno that we can put food on it without burning ourselves; drinking more beer while eating better food than I make at home; eventually moving on to some whiskey, a cigar, and drunken discussion of work, women, and whether nearby trees are at risk for fire damage; an even drunker review of overly ambitious life goals that we'll never achieve; and then passing out in a tent to sleep on the ground. On the other hand, sleeping on the ground is just not having a bed. Like a homeless person.
So, I'm toying with the idea of joining the Couch Surfing community. I will have friends and family to stay with along both coasts, but not too many in between. I like the idea of being able to find a spare bed in a friendly stranger's home if I'm sick of sleeping on the ground. In order to open up that possibility, I'd have to do some hosting in the meantime to get some good feedback, build up a little reputation equity. Put something into the Surfing community in order to get something back from it.
The idea of letting a stranger sleep at my joint is becoming less weird to me as I spend more time thinking about it. I usually like to meet new people, especially if they're interesting and if it's on my turf. Most meetings with Couch Surfers would meet these criteria. And I like to have people over to my place, give 'em a drink, make 'em something to eat, show 'em around Park Slope a little bit. So I am weighing all of that plus the expected benefit of less nights sleeping on the ground in 2010 against my territorialism and my distaste for douchebags, especially dirty ones (I would have had no problem with dirty hippies sleeping on my nasty old futon but am more protective of my seven month old grown-up sofa; hopefully Couch Surfers aren't offended when hosts put a sheet over the sofa before letting them go to bed).
Since one of the goals of the trip is to broaden my horizons/try new things/live more freely/expand my comfort zone (that might be four goals), I'll probably end up going for it. If the first guest sucks, I'll chalk it up to bad luck and try again. If the second guest also sucks, I'll chalk it up to Couch Surfing not being my thing and hope that my two hostings land me a night or two of lodging (and that that doesn't suck also). If I host someone and find that it's fun, then that'll be gravy.
Finally: You're right: I should have a picture of "Not My Best Ride" and I apologize for not having one. I did have my camera with me that day. At the time of the breakdown, I felt like the cops were already doing enough for me and that they'd think I was an even bigger and more annoying retard if I asked them to stop while I put down my kickstand in the middle of the right lane and walked away from the bike to get a photo of their car with my bike in front of it. Now that some time has passed, I know (hope) that I'll never see them again and it doesn't matter if they remember me as a retard or a huge retard; I just wish I had a picture from that day.
Going forward, I will try to be more shameless.
Over beers at the Wheeltapper Pub near Grand Central, we covered quite a bit of ground. Jay supplied a recommended pre-trip reading list (I'll edit this post with the titles and URLs when I get home). We talked strategy. Discussed dealing with the inevitable bouts of loneliness on a long solo trip and his experience with the remarkable friendliness and openness of strangers on the road. His recommendation to try to avoid getting too many hours away from a city or a friend in case you just need to be around people at some point. Talked about the challenge of striking a balance between living and experiencing the trip while finding time to document it in a blog. Went over the must-see destinations, the importance of leaving plenty of time to take in the miscellaneous and the local en route from one featured stop to the next. The necessity of staying flexible and accommodating all of the unexpected. His finding (and that of the long-distance motorcyclists he met along the way) that people are especially fascinated by bikes with license plates from several states away and get really curious to know what they're doing and where they're going.
The topic of our discussion that I've spent the most time tossing around in my head is that of Couch Surfing (not sure if it's truly a Proper Noun or not). CouchSurfing.com is a website that brings travelers and couches together. Registered members of the site act as both hosts and guests. When you're at home, you open your home to travelers needing a place to stay when they pass through your town. In exchange, other members provide you with a place to crash when you're in their area. This form of social networking has been catching on over the last couple of years and has created a bit of a media buzz. The New York Times, which we know has impeccable judgment when it comes to identifying What the People Want to Know About, did a nice (if inferior to the one about me) article on Couch Surfing way back in 2007.
As you probably know, I love camping. But "camping" and "sleeping on the ground" are not quite the same thing. To me, camping means building the biggest, hottest fire that particular campground has ever seen; sitting around drinking beer with my friends; trying to get close enough to the inferno that we can put food on it without burning ourselves; drinking more beer while eating better food than I make at home; eventually moving on to some whiskey, a cigar, and drunken discussion of work, women, and whether nearby trees are at risk for fire damage; an even drunker review of overly ambitious life goals that we'll never achieve; and then passing out in a tent to sleep on the ground. On the other hand, sleeping on the ground is just not having a bed. Like a homeless person.
So, I'm toying with the idea of joining the Couch Surfing community. I will have friends and family to stay with along both coasts, but not too many in between. I like the idea of being able to find a spare bed in a friendly stranger's home if I'm sick of sleeping on the ground. In order to open up that possibility, I'd have to do some hosting in the meantime to get some good feedback, build up a little reputation equity. Put something into the Surfing community in order to get something back from it.
The idea of letting a stranger sleep at my joint is becoming less weird to me as I spend more time thinking about it. I usually like to meet new people, especially if they're interesting and if it's on my turf. Most meetings with Couch Surfers would meet these criteria. And I like to have people over to my place, give 'em a drink, make 'em something to eat, show 'em around Park Slope a little bit. So I am weighing all of that plus the expected benefit of less nights sleeping on the ground in 2010 against my territorialism and my distaste for douchebags, especially dirty ones (I would have had no problem with dirty hippies sleeping on my nasty old futon but am more protective of my seven month old grown-up sofa; hopefully Couch Surfers aren't offended when hosts put a sheet over the sofa before letting them go to bed).
Since one of the goals of the trip is to broaden my horizons/try new things/live more freely/expand my comfort zone (that might be four goals), I'll probably end up going for it. If the first guest sucks, I'll chalk it up to bad luck and try again. If the second guest also sucks, I'll chalk it up to Couch Surfing not being my thing and hope that my two hostings land me a night or two of lodging (and that that doesn't suck also). If I host someone and find that it's fun, then that'll be gravy.
Finally: You're right: I should have a picture of "Not My Best Ride" and I apologize for not having one. I did have my camera with me that day. At the time of the breakdown, I felt like the cops were already doing enough for me and that they'd think I was an even bigger and more annoying retard if I asked them to stop while I put down my kickstand in the middle of the right lane and walked away from the bike to get a photo of their car with my bike in front of it. Now that some time has passed, I know (hope) that I'll never see them again and it doesn't matter if they remember me as a retard or a huge retard; I just wish I had a picture from that day.
Going forward, I will try to be more shameless.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
D - 485 Days: Not My Best Ride
"Breakdown, I'm standing here, can't you see?
Breakdown, it's alright."
- Tom Petty
WARNING to the non-"readers": This one has a lot of words, not a lot of pictures. More pictures next time, I promise.
Sunday was a beautiful December day, with temperatures in the City getting up into the high 40s with sunny skies and only mild winds. I put my directions to Queens down on paper to tape to my gas tank, layered up, and started my motorcycle with no trouble (on Friday night I'd gone into Manhattan only after roll-starting the bike, a technique that seems to work pretty well when the battery is cold but still has some juice). I was in Astoria in about 20 minutes, and the impressive potholes on the BQE gave my swerving skills some good practice. I parked, bought a couple slices of pizza, and ate them while watching the Jets at a divey Irish bar filled with old drunks getting an early start on their Sunday drunkenness. It was even warmer when I left to head back to Brooklyn, so I was really looking forward to the ride.
At one point a guy on a sport bike came up behind me and passed me like I was moving backwards; he was moving so fast I never saw him in my mirrors and the first sign of him I got was the loud and sudden sound of him passing very close to me. I chuckled, thinking how it was pretty good that the scariest thing that's happened on any of my recent rides was having someone else fly past me and being startled by the sound. A few seconds later, I felt my bike start to lose power and knew I had a bigger problem.
It didn't shut down right away as it did the time I ran out of gas, but sputtered and surged a few times. I shifted down through the gears, trying to keep it going as I looked for a safe place to pull over, but I had just passed the Kent St/Wythe St exit and gotten onto a bridge with no shoulders that crosses over Washington St. I signaled and got as far to the right as I could as I rolled to a stop. I put down the kickstand but had to turn the wheel to the right and lean the bike against the concrete barrier running along the edge of the right lane to keep the bike from leaning into traffic. I took off my helmet before realizing that was stupid, then put it back on and walked away from the bike, toward traffic, trying to make myself as visible as possible to oncoming cars and trucks while cozying up to the barrier.
I first called 411 and got Verizon Roadside Assistance, where the IVR wanted my credit card number before giving me an operator. I hustled through the automated process to get a person on the phone. The attendant wanted a lot of information before dispatching anyone to actually help, and we were having trouble communicating above the road noise as passing drivers honked and, in some cases, gestured helpfully. When I stressed that I needed help sooner than later, she said that I should call the police if I felt I was in an unsafe location. So we hung up and I called 911, which was considerably and predictably more responsive than Verizon. An NYPD cruiser pulled up with its lights flashing about five minutes later. The cop driving the car asked if I could push the bike, and I said that I could, so we set out together at about 3 mph, me pushing and the police following. Pushing my motorcycle to the top of the bridge while smashing my right shin against the bike's left footpeg every six to eight steps was a thrill. And it turns out that when you push 400 pounds for a mile, half of it uphill, while wearing clothing and a helmet specifically selected to keep you warm while sitting still and being hit with a 60 mph wind, you get pretty damn warm (especially if you're a sweater to begin with). We stopped twice along the way so the cops could pick up discarded tires along the side of the road, and then we reached the Tillary St exit and I jogged it down and around the exit ramp and pulled up behind two broken down cars and a flatbed on the gloriously wide shoulder of the end of the ramp. I thanked the cops and went to introduce myself to the flatbed driver.
Grateful for a good cell phone with web browsing, I made a few phone calls in a vain attempt to find a motorcycle mechanic open on Sunday, made a quick call for advice or ideas from my Ol' Dad, then had the flatbed driver take the bike and me to my house. Along the way, the driver enthralled me with anecdotes about taking his GSX-R 1000 up to 175 mph. It turns out, he knows my mechanic and takes his bike to him for service as well.
Fortunately, when I got home, I had just enough energy left in my arms to do a few 12-ounce curls with a cold beer while I watched the end of the 1:00 football games. My shin remains bruised.
I called the mechanic today and we'll make arrangements for him to pick up my bike tomorrow. Ever since the breakdown, the electrical system is completely dead. When I turn the key, no lights or indicators come on, and the starter doesn't do squat. I'm curious to see if the problem is with the battery, the alternator, or the wiring. I guess I'll know soon.
It stinks that the towing and the repairs will probably eat up most of my fantasy football winnings. Hopefully I'll be able to recoup some of these costs when I sell the bike. You can bet that I'll be advertising it on Craigslist as having a brand new alternator (or whatever the case ends up being).
Lessons learned:
1) Don't take off your helmet on the highway under any circumstances.
2) Don't get TOO far from home if you're not sure your bike is pretty dependable (towing is expensive even before you tack on $4 per mile).
3) 911 is better than Verizon Roadside Assistance in a semi-emergency.
4) Carry highway flares.
5) If you ride in 20-something, 30-something, and 40-something temperatures for a month and then your bike dies, it will go up to 67 the next day.
6) Even if you know there's not much he can do to help at the moment, it's real good to be able to call Ol' Dad when things aren't going so well.
Breakdown, it's alright."
- Tom Petty
WARNING to the non-"readers": This one has a lot of words, not a lot of pictures. More pictures next time, I promise.
Sunday was a beautiful December day, with temperatures in the City getting up into the high 40s with sunny skies and only mild winds. I put my directions to Queens down on paper to tape to my gas tank, layered up, and started my motorcycle with no trouble (on Friday night I'd gone into Manhattan only after roll-starting the bike, a technique that seems to work pretty well when the battery is cold but still has some juice). I was in Astoria in about 20 minutes, and the impressive potholes on the BQE gave my swerving skills some good practice. I parked, bought a couple slices of pizza, and ate them while watching the Jets at a divey Irish bar filled with old drunks getting an early start on their Sunday drunkenness. It was even warmer when I left to head back to Brooklyn, so I was really looking forward to the ride.
At one point a guy on a sport bike came up behind me and passed me like I was moving backwards; he was moving so fast I never saw him in my mirrors and the first sign of him I got was the loud and sudden sound of him passing very close to me. I chuckled, thinking how it was pretty good that the scariest thing that's happened on any of my recent rides was having someone else fly past me and being startled by the sound. A few seconds later, I felt my bike start to lose power and knew I had a bigger problem.
It didn't shut down right away as it did the time I ran out of gas, but sputtered and surged a few times. I shifted down through the gears, trying to keep it going as I looked for a safe place to pull over, but I had just passed the Kent St/Wythe St exit and gotten onto a bridge with no shoulders that crosses over Washington St. I signaled and got as far to the right as I could as I rolled to a stop. I put down the kickstand but had to turn the wheel to the right and lean the bike against the concrete barrier running along the edge of the right lane to keep the bike from leaning into traffic. I took off my helmet before realizing that was stupid, then put it back on and walked away from the bike, toward traffic, trying to make myself as visible as possible to oncoming cars and trucks while cozying up to the barrier.
I first called 411 and got Verizon Roadside Assistance, where the IVR wanted my credit card number before giving me an operator. I hustled through the automated process to get a person on the phone. The attendant wanted a lot of information before dispatching anyone to actually help, and we were having trouble communicating above the road noise as passing drivers honked and, in some cases, gestured helpfully. When I stressed that I needed help sooner than later, she said that I should call the police if I felt I was in an unsafe location. So we hung up and I called 911, which was considerably and predictably more responsive than Verizon. An NYPD cruiser pulled up with its lights flashing about five minutes later. The cop driving the car asked if I could push the bike, and I said that I could, so we set out together at about 3 mph, me pushing and the police following. Pushing my motorcycle to the top of the bridge while smashing my right shin against the bike's left footpeg every six to eight steps was a thrill. And it turns out that when you push 400 pounds for a mile, half of it uphill, while wearing clothing and a helmet specifically selected to keep you warm while sitting still and being hit with a 60 mph wind, you get pretty damn warm (especially if you're a sweater to begin with). We stopped twice along the way so the cops could pick up discarded tires along the side of the road, and then we reached the Tillary St exit and I jogged it down and around the exit ramp and pulled up behind two broken down cars and a flatbed on the gloriously wide shoulder of the end of the ramp. I thanked the cops and went to introduce myself to the flatbed driver.
Grateful for a good cell phone with web browsing, I made a few phone calls in a vain attempt to find a motorcycle mechanic open on Sunday, made a quick call for advice or ideas from my Ol' Dad, then had the flatbed driver take the bike and me to my house. Along the way, the driver enthralled me with anecdotes about taking his GSX-R 1000 up to 175 mph. It turns out, he knows my mechanic and takes his bike to him for service as well.
Fortunately, when I got home, I had just enough energy left in my arms to do a few 12-ounce curls with a cold beer while I watched the end of the 1:00 football games. My shin remains bruised.
I called the mechanic today and we'll make arrangements for him to pick up my bike tomorrow. Ever since the breakdown, the electrical system is completely dead. When I turn the key, no lights or indicators come on, and the starter doesn't do squat. I'm curious to see if the problem is with the battery, the alternator, or the wiring. I guess I'll know soon.
It stinks that the towing and the repairs will probably eat up most of my fantasy football winnings. Hopefully I'll be able to recoup some of these costs when I sell the bike. You can bet that I'll be advertising it on Craigslist as having a brand new alternator (or whatever the case ends up being).
Lessons learned:
1) Don't take off your helmet on the highway under any circumstances.
2) Don't get TOO far from home if you're not sure your bike is pretty dependable (towing is expensive even before you tack on $4 per mile).
3) 911 is better than Verizon Roadside Assistance in a semi-emergency.
4) Carry highway flares.
5) If you ride in 20-something, 30-something, and 40-something temperatures for a month and then your bike dies, it will go up to 67 the next day.
6) Even if you know there's not much he can do to help at the moment, it's real good to be able to call Ol' Dad when things aren't going so well.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
D - 491 Days: A Little Q and A
"The waiting is the hardest part."
- Tom Petty
I don't have any new ride reports to share, so how about a little Q and A about the trip?
(Q3) Will you make it a point to see at least one "World's ___est" something in each state?
Nah. Unless it's something actually cool, like the World's Biggest Slice of Pizza or something, the "World's Somethingest" tag doesn't do anything for me. Once you've seen one large wad of twine, you've seen all large wads of twine, and there will be many more interesting things to see than big wads of twine, even if they're not the world's somethingest examples of whatever they are.
That said, if I happen across the road sign promoting the World's Largest Prairie Dog again, I may make a quick stop to check in and see how the old boy has been doing since I last saw him 10 years ago.
(Q4) What aspect of the 600 days are you most dreading, and why?
The only thing I can think of right now is all the waiting. There are a couple things about the time on the road that make me a little anxious or apprehensive (I'll write about that another time), but nothing that I'm anywhere close to dreading. I'm enjoying the early stages of the planning process. I don't dread anything coming up in my life in the next year or any tasks that I have to complete before I leave. But I think that doing some nice-weather riding in the spring of 2009 and possibly upgrading my motorcycle around that time, while having several months of preparation for the trip under my belt, is going to lead to days when I'm frustrated with my job and with the City and 2010 will seem very far away. On those days, knowing that my trip is a whole nother year away could be pretty unpleasant.
(Q5) Will you wear a helmet with Viking horns on the trip?
Sweet Jesus, I hope so.
Last thought for tonight: Once I get a few hundred more miles of experience under my belt, I'm really looking forward to taking the MSF's Experienced Rider Course. The Basic Rider Course that I took before I got my license in October was a terrific introduction to safe riding practices; I can't imagine recommending any other way to learn to ride. I've read hundreds of comments about the course on the forums and motorcycling sites I read, and riders are unanimous and enthusiastic in their advocacy for the class.
Basic Rider doesn't get you out of a parking lot; if the Experienced class is taught with anything resembling the professionalism and thoroughness of Basic, I'll learn a ton by getting some feedback and instruction regarding real road riding.
- Tom Petty
I don't have any new ride reports to share, so how about a little Q and A about the trip?
(Q3) Will you make it a point to see at least one "World's ___est" something in each state?
Nah. Unless it's something actually cool, like the World's Biggest Slice of Pizza or something, the "World's Somethingest" tag doesn't do anything for me. Once you've seen one large wad of twine, you've seen all large wads of twine, and there will be many more interesting things to see than big wads of twine, even if they're not the world's somethingest examples of whatever they are.
That said, if I happen across the road sign promoting the World's Largest Prairie Dog again, I may make a quick stop to check in and see how the old boy has been doing since I last saw him 10 years ago.
(Q4) What aspect of the 600 days are you most dreading, and why?
The only thing I can think of right now is all the waiting. There are a couple things about the time on the road that make me a little anxious or apprehensive (I'll write about that another time), but nothing that I'm anywhere close to dreading. I'm enjoying the early stages of the planning process. I don't dread anything coming up in my life in the next year or any tasks that I have to complete before I leave. But I think that doing some nice-weather riding in the spring of 2009 and possibly upgrading my motorcycle around that time, while having several months of preparation for the trip under my belt, is going to lead to days when I'm frustrated with my job and with the City and 2010 will seem very far away. On those days, knowing that my trip is a whole nother year away could be pretty unpleasant.
(Q5) Will you wear a helmet with Viking horns on the trip?
Sweet Jesus, I hope so.
Last thought for tonight: Once I get a few hundred more miles of experience under my belt, I'm really looking forward to taking the MSF's Experienced Rider Course. The Basic Rider Course that I took before I got my license in October was a terrific introduction to safe riding practices; I can't imagine recommending any other way to learn to ride. I've read hundreds of comments about the course on the forums and motorcycling sites I read, and riders are unanimous and enthusiastic in their advocacy for the class.
Basic Rider doesn't get you out of a parking lot; if the Experienced class is taught with anything resembling the professionalism and thoroughness of Basic, I'll learn a ton by getting some feedback and instruction regarding real road riding.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
D - 494 Days: Another Borough Down
Motorcycling seems to be good for my health. Riding negates stress and I always like to have something in my future that excites me; planning this trip has me feeling very inspired, which is great for my general state of mind.
Last night, I felt more like riding than drinking, so I rode to West 33rd St in Manhattan for my friend Jeff's birthday get-together. Instead of the five or six drinks and late night that this normally would have meant for me, I had a Guinness and a ginger ale and hung out for a couple hours and headed home at 10:25. My friends Marni and Alex, who live a couple doors up from me, left about 25 minutes before me and took the subway home. I rode home in a moderate snow shower and was putting the cover on my bike when they walked past me on 2nd St.
Riding in the snow wasn't a problem. The streets were wet but no snow or ice accumulated on them. Each time I stopped, I tried to put both feet down at the same time with the bike standing up perfectly straight and the wheel centered. At some point I'll get boots specifically made for motorcycling, which will have better traction than the ones I'm wearing now.
The hardest thing was keeping my face shield clear of snow and water. My ski gloves have absorbent goggle-wiping pads on the thumbs, but they're small and don't hold much water; once they're saturated, using them is like trying to dry something with a soaking towel. When I rode with the shield pushed up, I got a lot of snow in my eyes (go figure). I ended up having the best luck keeping the shield about halfway open, just far enough that I could see ender its bottom edge. It blocked some of the snow that way, without me having to look through it.
Maybe I will buy a chamois cloth to keep in a jacket pocket while riding in the rain or snow in the future.
Next destination: Queens. Hopefully next weekend.
Last night, I felt more like riding than drinking, so I rode to West 33rd St in Manhattan for my friend Jeff's birthday get-together. Instead of the five or six drinks and late night that this normally would have meant for me, I had a Guinness and a ginger ale and hung out for a couple hours and headed home at 10:25. My friends Marni and Alex, who live a couple doors up from me, left about 25 minutes before me and took the subway home. I rode home in a moderate snow shower and was putting the cover on my bike when they walked past me on 2nd St.
Riding in the snow wasn't a problem. The streets were wet but no snow or ice accumulated on them. Each time I stopped, I tried to put both feet down at the same time with the bike standing up perfectly straight and the wheel centered. At some point I'll get boots specifically made for motorcycling, which will have better traction than the ones I'm wearing now.
The hardest thing was keeping my face shield clear of snow and water. My ski gloves have absorbent goggle-wiping pads on the thumbs, but they're small and don't hold much water; once they're saturated, using them is like trying to dry something with a soaking towel. When I rode with the shield pushed up, I got a lot of snow in my eyes (go figure). I ended up having the best luck keeping the shield about halfway open, just far enough that I could see ender its bottom edge. It blocked some of the snow that way, without me having to look through it.
Maybe I will buy a chamois cloth to keep in a jacket pocket while riding in the rain or snow in the future.
Next destination: Queens. Hopefully next weekend.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
D - 495 Days
The Staten Island ride went off without a hitch. The highway was a piece of cake, the ride was more scenic than I expected, I got to do some things on the bike for the first time, and I stayed warm enough.
It was 35 degrees out with winds of 8 to 10 mph. I wore warm socks and the Timberlands I always wear to ride, long johns and jeans, and six torso layers: a tee shirt, a long sleeve Dri-Fit shirt, a lightweight long john shirt, a lightweight thermal, my Social Distortion hooded sweatshirt, and my black nylon jacket. I wore an ear band around my neck and rode in my ski gloves for the first time. I'd always thought they'd be too bulky to allow good control of the throttle and clutch, but they were great.
I held my breath when I pushed the ignition, but the bike started right up. I made three stops before leaving the Slope: first at a locksmith on Flatbush to get a duplicate key made (I'd tried five other shops before finding this one that could make a 1989 Kawasaki motorcycle key); then at the new Chase on 5th Ave. to get some cash; and finally at the Hess station at 4th and Union to top off my tank (it took 1.4 gallons even though I'd only ridden 28 miles since my last fill-up; still not sure why I'm not getting better mileage). Then I headed down 4th Ave toward 278.
It only took about half a mile on the highway to realize how much easier a windshield will make highway riding. Riding at 60 mph feels exactly like standing in a 60 mph wind. A shield deflects most of that air over the rider, making it easier to stay warm and improving aerodynamics. They also reduce fatigue, though that wasn't an issue on this short ride. I don't love windshields on motorcycles, especially the big police-style ones. Here's a picture of an awesome Vulcan with a good shield. I think something like this will give a good combination of aesthetics and wind protection:
My motorcycle only felt underpowered a couple of times, when I wanted to accelerate through the 40s and 50s while riding uphill into the wind (since it always felt on my chest like I was riding into the wind, I tried to judge wind direction based on ease of acceleration and whether or not I was being blown from side to side). I think it's more my fault than a limitation of the bike, and that I was probably one gear too high when I felt the bike was lagging. Next time I'm in that situation, I'll wait a little longer to up-shift. I didn't rev it up much higher than about 7,200 rpm today, but I think my bike is at its most powerful closer to 9,500 (it redlines at 10,000).
I aced my first tollbooth experience. I looked for and found a dry spot to put my feet down (I learned in my MSF class that tollbooths can be hazardous for motorcyclists because the pavement next to them gets slippery from oil drippings from cars). I took off one glove, paid my toll (only $5 - half the wheels, half the price!), got my glove back on and carefully pulled away (again, the oil) before the guy behind me had to start honking. Nice.
As great as the experience was, one more thing to add to my list of things to get for the trip: an E-Z Pass.
I got off 278 a couple exits later and the rest of the ride to Egbertville was awesome. I got my first taste of riding on something like a country road, curvy and hilly and lightly trafficked, with a speed limit of 35 or 40 and curves suggesting speeds of 10 to 20 mph. I loved every one of the bends and practicing what I learned about braking, lane positioning and line selection, looking out at where I wanted to go, and accelerating smoothly through the turns. I really can't wait to get upstate and ride in the country this spring.
Eventually I wound my way down a short, steep hill on a curve and turned off of Lighthouse Avenue and found a pizza place and Italian restaurant. I parked, took a picture of my bike in the parking lot, and went in.
I got a couple slices and a bottle of Bud Heavy and relaxed for a few minutes, then headed out. I took the outbound directions off my tank and taped the return route on.
Lady in car next to me at stoplight on Staten Island: "Is that your directions?"
Me: "What?"
Lady (pointing): "Your directions?"
Me: "Yep."
Lady (after a pause): "What happens if it rains?"
Me: "Shut up."
Just kidding.
Me (for real): "Haha! Well,"
Lady: "You'd have to put plastic over it."
The ride home was a blast, even easier than the ride out. I made a bunch of flawless lane changes; nothing is easier or safer for a Gordon driver than changing lanes. My Dad is one of the world's foremost experts on blind spots and head checks and he's passed his mastery on to the three of us kids. A Gordon driver would stand on his or her head and operate the pedals with hands and steer with feet before he or she would make a lane change without a head check. One of the absolute highlights (for all of us) of my Dad and sisters' most recent visit to the City was his administration of his "Can you see my now? How about now? Can you see me now?" test while I sat on my motorcycle.
I wasn't quite ready to stop yet when I got back to the Slope so I bombed up and down a couple of the avenues in the neighborhood and then parked in front of my house.
Next borough to conquer: Manhattan. Stay tuned.
It was 35 degrees out with winds of 8 to 10 mph. I wore warm socks and the Timberlands I always wear to ride, long johns and jeans, and six torso layers: a tee shirt, a long sleeve Dri-Fit shirt, a lightweight long john shirt, a lightweight thermal, my Social Distortion hooded sweatshirt, and my black nylon jacket. I wore an ear band around my neck and rode in my ski gloves for the first time. I'd always thought they'd be too bulky to allow good control of the throttle and clutch, but they were great.
I held my breath when I pushed the ignition, but the bike started right up. I made three stops before leaving the Slope: first at a locksmith on Flatbush to get a duplicate key made (I'd tried five other shops before finding this one that could make a 1989 Kawasaki motorcycle key); then at the new Chase on 5th Ave. to get some cash; and finally at the Hess station at 4th and Union to top off my tank (it took 1.4 gallons even though I'd only ridden 28 miles since my last fill-up; still not sure why I'm not getting better mileage). Then I headed down 4th Ave toward 278.
It only took about half a mile on the highway to realize how much easier a windshield will make highway riding. Riding at 60 mph feels exactly like standing in a 60 mph wind. A shield deflects most of that air over the rider, making it easier to stay warm and improving aerodynamics. They also reduce fatigue, though that wasn't an issue on this short ride. I don't love windshields on motorcycles, especially the big police-style ones. Here's a picture of an awesome Vulcan with a good shield. I think something like this will give a good combination of aesthetics and wind protection:
My motorcycle only felt underpowered a couple of times, when I wanted to accelerate through the 40s and 50s while riding uphill into the wind (since it always felt on my chest like I was riding into the wind, I tried to judge wind direction based on ease of acceleration and whether or not I was being blown from side to side). I think it's more my fault than a limitation of the bike, and that I was probably one gear too high when I felt the bike was lagging. Next time I'm in that situation, I'll wait a little longer to up-shift. I didn't rev it up much higher than about 7,200 rpm today, but I think my bike is at its most powerful closer to 9,500 (it redlines at 10,000).
I aced my first tollbooth experience. I looked for and found a dry spot to put my feet down (I learned in my MSF class that tollbooths can be hazardous for motorcyclists because the pavement next to them gets slippery from oil drippings from cars). I took off one glove, paid my toll (only $5 - half the wheels, half the price!), got my glove back on and carefully pulled away (again, the oil) before the guy behind me had to start honking. Nice.
As great as the experience was, one more thing to add to my list of things to get for the trip: an E-Z Pass.
I got off 278 a couple exits later and the rest of the ride to Egbertville was awesome. I got my first taste of riding on something like a country road, curvy and hilly and lightly trafficked, with a speed limit of 35 or 40 and curves suggesting speeds of 10 to 20 mph. I loved every one of the bends and practicing what I learned about braking, lane positioning and line selection, looking out at where I wanted to go, and accelerating smoothly through the turns. I really can't wait to get upstate and ride in the country this spring.
Eventually I wound my way down a short, steep hill on a curve and turned off of Lighthouse Avenue and found a pizza place and Italian restaurant. I parked, took a picture of my bike in the parking lot, and went in.
I got a couple slices and a bottle of Bud Heavy and relaxed for a few minutes, then headed out. I took the outbound directions off my tank and taped the return route on.
Lady in car next to me at stoplight on Staten Island: "Is that your directions?"
Me: "What?"
Lady (pointing): "Your directions?"
Me: "Yep."
Lady (after a pause): "What happens if it rains?"
Me: "Shut up."
Just kidding.
Me (for real): "Haha! Well,"
Lady: "You'd have to put plastic over it."
The ride home was a blast, even easier than the ride out. I made a bunch of flawless lane changes; nothing is easier or safer for a Gordon driver than changing lanes. My Dad is one of the world's foremost experts on blind spots and head checks and he's passed his mastery on to the three of us kids. A Gordon driver would stand on his or her head and operate the pedals with hands and steer with feet before he or she would make a lane change without a head check. One of the absolute highlights (for all of us) of my Dad and sisters' most recent visit to the City was his administration of his "Can you see my now? How about now? Can you see me now?" test while I sat on my motorcycle.
I wasn't quite ready to stop yet when I got back to the Slope so I bombed up and down a couple of the avenues in the neighborhood and then parked in front of my house.
Next borough to conquer: Manhattan. Stay tuned.
Friday, December 5, 2008
D - 496 Days: Getting out of Brooklyn Tomorrow
I'm trying to take a step every day toward fulfilling my goal of completing this trip successfully. I'll count just about anything as a step: reading an article about motorcycle maintenance that teaches me something (any article about motorcycle maintenance that doesn't teach me something is automatically the worst piece of writing ever, and "best ever" and "worst ever" aren't phrases I just toss around), a deposit into my savings account, or making a decision about something I'll do or take on the trip. Even writing a new post here makes the trip feel a little more real.
Tomorrow's is going to be a bigger-than-average step toward riding around the country: riding out of Brooklyn for the first time. My plan is to take the Gowanus Expressway (still not sure if this is technically named after an STD or if it just sounds like one) over the Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island and onto 278 West, and then take Manor Road to a neighborhood called Egbertville. I'll have lunch on Lighthouse Ave, which the interweb tells me is the main drag through Egbertville. Then I'll head back the way I came.
Click to see the whole route, map, and directions:
View Larger Map
Of course, it's going to be pretty cold tomorrow (high of 37 or so in the city) so all of this is dependent on my not being too cold to make it the whole way.
On to today's FAQ:
(Q2) How many sets of friends/family do you anticipate seeing along the way, roughly?
Instead of just picking a number, I made a first draft of my list. I'm sure I'm leaving off important people to visit and, if any of them read this, I apologize.
1) The Mannings and their farm in Dalton, PA.
2) Kate and Kris Hemmerich in Lancaster, PA.
2.5) The Murphys in Berwyn, PA (outside of Philly).
3) My sisters, Denise and Laura, and Denise's husband, Adam, around Silver Spring, MD.
4) Corrina, Kendria and my other friends around D.C.
5) Jeff and Amy in Charlotte.
6) Denise's best friend, Ange, in Raleigh-Durham.
7) My friend Martha's sister, Mary, and her boyfriend Keith in Atlanta. I've only met them a couple times but they're motorcycle people and I like their dogs, so...plus they have my cell phone charger so I'll be able to pick that up.
8) Maybe somebody in Florida, if I know anyone in Florida.
9) My friend Chrissy in Denver, if she lives there then.
10) Maybe somebody in L.A., if I know anyone in L.A. Trav seems like the best bet.
11) Jack and Robin and Ben and my cousin Solon in San Francisco. Maybe Thaler.
12) Scott Simon and his karaoke joint in Portland, Oregon.
13) Maybe Ronda from Disney's College Program in Portland, too.
14) J and Martha in Seattle.
15) My cousin Joel in Wisconsin.
16) Nat and Craig and their girls in Ottawa.
17) My cousin Susan in Boston.
18) Trevor and Anno and Lyla in Plymouth.
19) My Uncle David and Aunt Barbara in Massachusetts (Framingham, maybe?).
20) My Grandma and Grandpa in Lowville, NY.
21) My Uncle Larry and Aunt Dorothy in Manlius, NY.
22) Stephanie Romano in Manlius.
23) My parents in Chittenango and East Syracuse.
23) My childhood best friend, K.C., his wife Kristi, and their kids on their farm in Lebanon, NY.
24) My NYC friends. This probably doesn't count as "friends I see along the way," but it's my blog and I'm OK with that. It'll be good to see them.
Tomorrow's is going to be a bigger-than-average step toward riding around the country: riding out of Brooklyn for the first time. My plan is to take the Gowanus Expressway (still not sure if this is technically named after an STD or if it just sounds like one) over the Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island and onto 278 West, and then take Manor Road to a neighborhood called Egbertville. I'll have lunch on Lighthouse Ave, which the interweb tells me is the main drag through Egbertville. Then I'll head back the way I came.
Click to see the whole route, map, and directions:
View Larger Map
Of course, it's going to be pretty cold tomorrow (high of 37 or so in the city) so all of this is dependent on my not being too cold to make it the whole way.
On to today's FAQ:
(Q2) How many sets of friends/family do you anticipate seeing along the way, roughly?
Instead of just picking a number, I made a first draft of my list. I'm sure I'm leaving off important people to visit and, if any of them read this, I apologize.
1) The Mannings and their farm in Dalton, PA.
2) Kate and Kris Hemmerich in Lancaster, PA.
2.5) The Murphys in Berwyn, PA (outside of Philly).
3) My sisters, Denise and Laura, and Denise's husband, Adam, around Silver Spring, MD.
4) Corrina, Kendria and my other friends around D.C.
5) Jeff and Amy in Charlotte.
6) Denise's best friend, Ange, in Raleigh-Durham.
7) My friend Martha's sister, Mary, and her boyfriend Keith in Atlanta. I've only met them a couple times but they're motorcycle people and I like their dogs, so...plus they have my cell phone charger so I'll be able to pick that up.
8) Maybe somebody in Florida, if I know anyone in Florida.
9) My friend Chrissy in Denver, if she lives there then.
10) Maybe somebody in L.A., if I know anyone in L.A. Trav seems like the best bet.
11) Jack and Robin and Ben and my cousin Solon in San Francisco. Maybe Thaler.
12) Scott Simon and his karaoke joint in Portland, Oregon.
13) Maybe Ronda from Disney's College Program in Portland, too.
14) J and Martha in Seattle.
15) My cousin Joel in Wisconsin.
16) Nat and Craig and their girls in Ottawa.
17) My cousin Susan in Boston.
18) Trevor and Anno and Lyla in Plymouth.
19) My Uncle David and Aunt Barbara in Massachusetts (Framingham, maybe?).
20) My Grandma and Grandpa in Lowville, NY.
21) My Uncle Larry and Aunt Dorothy in Manlius, NY.
22) Stephanie Romano in Manlius.
23) My parents in Chittenango and East Syracuse.
23) My childhood best friend, K.C., his wife Kristi, and their kids on their farm in Lebanon, NY.
24) My NYC friends. This probably doesn't count as "friends I see along the way," but it's my blog and I'm OK with that. It'll be good to see them.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
D - 498 Days: A few thoughts...more preview than anything.
One of my priorities for today was to make a blog post, so just a little something here...
The four or five people I've told about this Plan have had a lot of thoughtful questions about details surrounding how the trip is going to go down (as have I). Yesterday, my friend Jack and I spent some of our (very scarce) free time at our respective jobs discussing the fact that I should include a bunch of them in an "FAQ" or "Q and A" section of the blog.
Well, Jack emailed me early this evening with an outstanding list of ONE HUNDRED QUESTIONS about the trip. I want to answer most of them between now and 4/15/10.
For tonight, I'll start the ball rolling from the top of the list, with Question #1 of 100:
(Q1) How will you physically prepare yourself, appearance-wise? For example, will you grow a decent biker beard before you embark? Lift weights to gain some bulk, or put on a belly to look less threatening?
A: Good, important question about the beard. It's neither part of the plan nor out of the question. Here's a picture of the biggest beard I've grown so far:
Now, on the one hand, it's hard to imagine a better time to try to out-do that than while spending over three months on the road. If I were to spend a couple months at the end of next winter growing a normal beard and then the next 100 days letting it get as big as it wants, I think I'd be there. On the other hand, I could start the trip with a clean shave and then not shave again until I get home...kind of use the beard as a clock showing how long the trip has lasted. And on the theoretical third hand, I recently cut off my last beard and am still in the honeymoon stage of truly enjoying starting off each day with a smooth face. I'm cyclic with regard to the beard and am not at a particularly beardly place in my life right now. This could end up being a game-time decision.
I promise that my responses to most of the other FAQs will be more committal than "maybe."
As an immediate example of my commitment to being...committal... yes, I am committed to getting myself into good physical shape for this experience. I understand that long-distance riding is physically strenuous, especially when one gets into the mountains and has thinner air and stronger winds with which to contend. Plus, I already find that maintaining concentration and alertness the whole time that I'm on my motorcycle can present another kind of fatigue (this is particularly true in the cold); I'm not used to focusing on one thing for an extended period of time.
I know that I maintain a higher energy level when I'm fit and getting regular exercise than when I wander away from the good health wagon. So I want to be in top physical shape by the time I leave. Writing this as a guy who is sitting on a couch with a 24-ounce Miller Lite ("Big Beer") and who has paid about $210 in gym fees since last attending the gym, it's a good thing I've got 498 more days.
Finally, I want to do a good job of taking care of my back from now until the trip. It's given me very little trouble since I recovered after it last seized up and I need that to continue. I don't figure that spending several hundred hours on a motorcycle seat is the very best thing for a balky back (though spending two hours on my bike so far seems to be much easier on my back than spending two hours in a car, which is a good sign), plus I'll be sleeping on the ground a lot. So it seems that putting myself on a good stretching and strengthening regimen would be good preparation.
Alright, well, that's Question and Answer #1. Not the most interesting answer to a question I've ever given. I'll try to make the next one a little more colorful.
The four or five people I've told about this Plan have had a lot of thoughtful questions about details surrounding how the trip is going to go down (as have I). Yesterday, my friend Jack and I spent some of our (very scarce) free time at our respective jobs discussing the fact that I should include a bunch of them in an "FAQ" or "Q and A" section of the blog.
Well, Jack emailed me early this evening with an outstanding list of ONE HUNDRED QUESTIONS about the trip. I want to answer most of them between now and 4/15/10.
For tonight, I'll start the ball rolling from the top of the list, with Question #1 of 100:
(Q1) How will you physically prepare yourself, appearance-wise? For example, will you grow a decent biker beard before you embark? Lift weights to gain some bulk, or put on a belly to look less threatening?
A: Good, important question about the beard. It's neither part of the plan nor out of the question. Here's a picture of the biggest beard I've grown so far:
Now, on the one hand, it's hard to imagine a better time to try to out-do that than while spending over three months on the road. If I were to spend a couple months at the end of next winter growing a normal beard and then the next 100 days letting it get as big as it wants, I think I'd be there. On the other hand, I could start the trip with a clean shave and then not shave again until I get home...kind of use the beard as a clock showing how long the trip has lasted. And on the theoretical third hand, I recently cut off my last beard and am still in the honeymoon stage of truly enjoying starting off each day with a smooth face. I'm cyclic with regard to the beard and am not at a particularly beardly place in my life right now. This could end up being a game-time decision.
I promise that my responses to most of the other FAQs will be more committal than "maybe."
As an immediate example of my commitment to being...committal... yes, I am committed to getting myself into good physical shape for this experience. I understand that long-distance riding is physically strenuous, especially when one gets into the mountains and has thinner air and stronger winds with which to contend. Plus, I already find that maintaining concentration and alertness the whole time that I'm on my motorcycle can present another kind of fatigue (this is particularly true in the cold); I'm not used to focusing on one thing for an extended period of time.
I know that I maintain a higher energy level when I'm fit and getting regular exercise than when I wander away from the good health wagon. So I want to be in top physical shape by the time I leave. Writing this as a guy who is sitting on a couch with a 24-ounce Miller Lite ("Big Beer") and who has paid about $210 in gym fees since last attending the gym, it's a good thing I've got 498 more days.
Finally, I want to do a good job of taking care of my back from now until the trip. It's given me very little trouble since I recovered after it last seized up and I need that to continue. I don't figure that spending several hundred hours on a motorcycle seat is the very best thing for a balky back (though spending two hours on my bike so far seems to be much easier on my back than spending two hours in a car, which is a good sign), plus I'll be sleeping on the ground a lot. So it seems that putting myself on a good stretching and strengthening regimen would be good preparation.
Alright, well, that's Question and Answer #1. Not the most interesting answer to a question I've ever given. I'll try to make the next one a little more colorful.
Monday, December 1, 2008
D - 500 Days
On April 15, 2010, I will leave New York City and spend 100 days (give or take) seeing the country (and a little bit of Canada) on a motorcycle.
That's right - with 30 days and barely more than 200 miles of city riding under my belt, I'm preparing to ride over 12,000 miles around the country. If you don't do it big, then what's the point?
This is a Dream that I've had for a long time, which morphed into an Idea a few weeks ago and has finally become a Plan.
As of today, I've got 500 days to prepare for my trip. The excitement that is already starting to make it hard to sleep at night makes me want to make it happen sooner than that, but the logistics dictate that I take the proper time to prepare and to assemble the gear I'll need.
And really, the timing will be perfect. Early spring feels like an appropriate, if rainy, time to embark on something fresh, new and big. My lease will be up. It'll get warmer, in general, as I go. And my hunch is that up to five of my closest friends in Park Slope will have just left or be on the verge of moving out of NYC. Meaning that I will be about ready to try someplace new as well. Meaning that it's the perfect time to make big changes, and by "make big changes" I mean QUIT MY JOB!
This initial blog post is going to be a catch-all of a lot of high-level information about the trip. I want to get the thoughts that I've jotted down on scraps of paper and the back of a Verizon statement or typed into an email to myself consolidated in one place, and then to elaborate on these main topics over the coming months as I hash out details in my mind and on the backs of more Verizon statements, etc.
The Route
The Plan is to travel about 12,000 miles in about 16 weeks. From NYC I'll blaze a roundabout trail down the Atlantic Coast, seeing the Manning Farm and friends and family in the DC area and the Carolinas, down through Atlanta and all the way down the ocean coast of Florida to Key West, then back up the Gulf Coast and then west across the lower half of the country, up to Colorado and then back down and over to Arizona. I'll bang a right and head up the coast of California and see my friends in the Bay area, then in Portland and Seattle on my way up to Vancouver. Whether or not I head further north to experience Alaska and the Yukon will depend on how things are going. The last leg will bring me back across the northern states and home to Brooklyn.
Objectives
1) Get out of Dodge. After six years (seven by the time my trip starts) of living in NYC and working in big offices, I'm anxious to spend time somewhere else and do something different.
2) See ballparks. I love everything about baseball, including seeing games in new stadiums. But I've only visited six parks. I want to add six more on this trip.
3) Scout new places to live. Five good friends have left Park Slope in the last couple of years and I think five more will in the next two or three. That's most of 'em. I still love New York City most of the time but I don't see myself staying too long after all of my oldest friends start enjoying greener pastures. Ahh, pastures. Over the next year, I'll create a short list of towns that might be Next, and plan to see them on my trip.
4) Meet new people. It would be remiss to leave this off the list. I think that travelers support other travelers and The Road (outside of NYC and DC and L.A., of course) is a very friendly place.
Accomodations
Camping, camping, an occasional motel, camping, friends' couches when possible, and more camping.
Budget
This is the other benefit of giving myself a lot of time to prepare: 16 months to save money. Right now, I'm figuring my expenses like this:
1) Gas: 12,000 miles at 50 mpg means 320 gallons of gas. At $3 per, that's $960.
2) Travel costs: A friend who went cross-country in a car recently said that his non-fuel costs averaged $40 a day. I'm going to budget $50 a day for accommodations and food. That's $5,000 for 100 days.
3) Insurance: Without a job, I'll have to buy health insurance. I think this costs about $500 a month. Ouch. So $1,500 there.
4) Motorcycle: This is the big X factor. I'm going to budget $10,000 for now, which would get me a great and powerful late-model bike. Whether or not I carry a loan on it depends on a lot of things. For planning purposes, probably better to assume I'll pay for it in full when I get it.
5) Gear: $1,500. It's a wild guess. Details will follow.
6) Bills: I think I'll be able to sublet my apartment or simply not renew my lease. I won't need data services from Verizon but I'll have a $50 cell phone bill and a $120 student loan payment due each month. So that's another $510. I hope the gym will let me quit.
So that's close to $20,000. Yep. Good to have time to save up. And all the more incentive to do a good job asking for a decent raise in January.
Packing List
This will be a work in progress until the morning I leave. I'll add to it as I think of things. I welcome your suggestions.
- Laptop and power cord
- Camera
- Sleeping pad
- Sleeping bag
- Tent
- Camp stove
- Phone (with GPS, or separate GPS) and charger
- Flashlight
- Map book
- Pocket knife
- Minimal cookware
- RAIN GEAR
The Bike
I visited three motorcycle dealerships with my Dad on Saturday: a Kawasaki and Yamaha place; a Honda and Suzuki place; and a Harley dealer. It was fun to throw a leg over the sport touring bikes (including the Kawasaki Concours) but I just can't reconcile its shape against what I feel a motorcycle should look like. I sat on an orange Vulcan 900 Custom and had no such difficulty imagining myself riding it for months on end. I'm intrigued by and anxious to see some of the Triumphs, especially the Speedmaster as well as a Victory (the idea of seeing America on an American-made motorcycle is appealing). The Yamaha FJR didn't feel bad but, again, isn't quite my thing. And I will definitely check out the BMWs that are said to be exceptionally durable and comfortable for long rides. But yeah. The Vulcan is the front-runner right now.
OK...I think that's it for tonight. Many more details to come.
That's right - with 30 days and barely more than 200 miles of city riding under my belt, I'm preparing to ride over 12,000 miles around the country. If you don't do it big, then what's the point?
This is a Dream that I've had for a long time, which morphed into an Idea a few weeks ago and has finally become a Plan.
As of today, I've got 500 days to prepare for my trip. The excitement that is already starting to make it hard to sleep at night makes me want to make it happen sooner than that, but the logistics dictate that I take the proper time to prepare and to assemble the gear I'll need.
And really, the timing will be perfect. Early spring feels like an appropriate, if rainy, time to embark on something fresh, new and big. My lease will be up. It'll get warmer, in general, as I go. And my hunch is that up to five of my closest friends in Park Slope will have just left or be on the verge of moving out of NYC. Meaning that I will be about ready to try someplace new as well. Meaning that it's the perfect time to make big changes, and by "make big changes" I mean QUIT MY JOB!
This initial blog post is going to be a catch-all of a lot of high-level information about the trip. I want to get the thoughts that I've jotted down on scraps of paper and the back of a Verizon statement or typed into an email to myself consolidated in one place, and then to elaborate on these main topics over the coming months as I hash out details in my mind and on the backs of more Verizon statements, etc.
The Route
The Plan is to travel about 12,000 miles in about 16 weeks. From NYC I'll blaze a roundabout trail down the Atlantic Coast, seeing the Manning Farm and friends and family in the DC area and the Carolinas, down through Atlanta and all the way down the ocean coast of Florida to Key West, then back up the Gulf Coast and then west across the lower half of the country, up to Colorado and then back down and over to Arizona. I'll bang a right and head up the coast of California and see my friends in the Bay area, then in Portland and Seattle on my way up to Vancouver. Whether or not I head further north to experience Alaska and the Yukon will depend on how things are going. The last leg will bring me back across the northern states and home to Brooklyn.
Objectives
1) Get out of Dodge. After six years (seven by the time my trip starts) of living in NYC and working in big offices, I'm anxious to spend time somewhere else and do something different.
2) See ballparks. I love everything about baseball, including seeing games in new stadiums. But I've only visited six parks. I want to add six more on this trip.
3) Scout new places to live. Five good friends have left Park Slope in the last couple of years and I think five more will in the next two or three. That's most of 'em. I still love New York City most of the time but I don't see myself staying too long after all of my oldest friends start enjoying greener pastures. Ahh, pastures. Over the next year, I'll create a short list of towns that might be Next, and plan to see them on my trip.
4) Meet new people. It would be remiss to leave this off the list. I think that travelers support other travelers and The Road (outside of NYC and DC and L.A., of course) is a very friendly place.
Accomodations
Camping, camping, an occasional motel, camping, friends' couches when possible, and more camping.
Budget
This is the other benefit of giving myself a lot of time to prepare: 16 months to save money. Right now, I'm figuring my expenses like this:
1) Gas: 12,000 miles at 50 mpg means 320 gallons of gas. At $3 per, that's $960.
2) Travel costs: A friend who went cross-country in a car recently said that his non-fuel costs averaged $40 a day. I'm going to budget $50 a day for accommodations and food. That's $5,000 for 100 days.
3) Insurance: Without a job, I'll have to buy health insurance. I think this costs about $500 a month. Ouch. So $1,500 there.
4) Motorcycle: This is the big X factor. I'm going to budget $10,000 for now, which would get me a great and powerful late-model bike. Whether or not I carry a loan on it depends on a lot of things. For planning purposes, probably better to assume I'll pay for it in full when I get it.
5) Gear: $1,500. It's a wild guess. Details will follow.
6) Bills: I think I'll be able to sublet my apartment or simply not renew my lease. I won't need data services from Verizon but I'll have a $50 cell phone bill and a $120 student loan payment due each month. So that's another $510. I hope the gym will let me quit.
So that's close to $20,000. Yep. Good to have time to save up. And all the more incentive to do a good job asking for a decent raise in January.
Packing List
This will be a work in progress until the morning I leave. I'll add to it as I think of things. I welcome your suggestions.
- Laptop and power cord
- Camera
- Sleeping pad
- Sleeping bag
- Tent
- Camp stove
- Phone (with GPS, or separate GPS) and charger
- Flashlight
- Map book
- Pocket knife
- Minimal cookware
- RAIN GEAR
The Bike
I visited three motorcycle dealerships with my Dad on Saturday: a Kawasaki and Yamaha place; a Honda and Suzuki place; and a Harley dealer. It was fun to throw a leg over the sport touring bikes (including the Kawasaki Concours) but I just can't reconcile its shape against what I feel a motorcycle should look like. I sat on an orange Vulcan 900 Custom and had no such difficulty imagining myself riding it for months on end. I'm intrigued by and anxious to see some of the Triumphs, especially the Speedmaster as well as a Victory (the idea of seeing America on an American-made motorcycle is appealing). The Yamaha FJR didn't feel bad but, again, isn't quite my thing. And I will definitely check out the BMWs that are said to be exceptionally durable and comfortable for long rides. But yeah. The Vulcan is the front-runner right now.
OK...I think that's it for tonight. Many more details to come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
