Know Thyself

"You really get to know yourself on a trip like this"
-- Big Greg







You can take any 'ol time to yourself to meditate, introspect. You can make a journey in your mind. But unless you are a master yogi, I don't think it will compare with taking the concrete trip in the material world. As Big Greg so eloquently put it, "you really get to know yourself on a trip like this." I agree.

When he said this, something kept nudging at me. What didn't he say? The missing piece is what rang in my head. When did I/you lose knowledge in myself/ourselves?

On that Pacific Coast I thought, much like I had been thinking through the countless miles across the country.
When you ride on a long trip like this, you are by yourself, covering many miles. There is no one next to you to talk to. There is no radio or cell phone. Sure your mind is dealing with traffic, road conditions, weather, the mechanical machine you are on. You take in the beautiful scenery, breather the fresh air, etc. But these things are internalized after a while and become so second nature that a another you inside of you is taking charge of those things. You are now left in a free floating state of thought.

This is an amazing and instantaneous thing I find. That the mind takes care of some physical functions that require thought or knowledge while another mind can be left free for other, perhaps more meaningful, thought.

When in my daily routine at home, work, friends, family, serious, jovial, this, that,... am I conscious of what's going on inside? The process, where is it going? In this life-term of years I've been allotted, what has become, is becoming of self?

This trip. Why did he do it? Why does anybody do something like this? I suppose the answer is deep and even I haven't gone there. But aside from being out there, seeing and experiencing the world, it is a quest for self: the greater trip.

"You Think You're Big-Time?!"

"You think you're big-time?!" "Huh?"

"Come ride with me."
"I'll show you who's big-time!"

El Pichon

GROUP RIDING

I wanted to be truthful about this trip and, as I mentioned earlier in the blog, I would address why the large group broke up. Most of this trip I rode solo. But there was that part where I met up with 12 other riders in Vegas and then rode out together to California. Problems arose. I was going to talk at length about that, getting into the dynamics and the details, but have since changed my mind. So I'll just get to the meat of the matter: 13 alpha males in a pack just don't work. Thirteen is an unlucky number anyway.

At the onset, while still back home in the planning stages, we had a group meeting to discuss the trip. Right off I knew there were conflicting personalities and diverging interests. That's not to mention that some of us were new to each other. These things and others came to play on the road from Vegas to Bakersfield, CA in a way that was predictable I think. However, in the enthusiasm of the moment and interest of doing the group thing we went ahead with it.

I believe what ultimately broke the camel's back was that one set of riders, let's call them group A, rode at a higher rate of speed (the speed limit really, which was 70 or 75mph on the straights) and more in unison (being used to each other) than another set, let's call them group B. Other things came into play: the punishing desert heat tested everybody's tolerances, breaking down in the desert, ego's, and on and on. Things got heated that evening at the hotel and words were exchanged. But cool heads, I'm happy to report, prevailed.

In the morning, after sleep and rest, calm and order was restored. But what emerged was a different riding configuration. Rather it was two main groups traveling at different speeds and with different destinations and probably different riding philosophies, agendas, and expectations. By mutual agreement (and what I thought for some time was always inevitable) Group B went on ahead in the morning. Group A stayed behind to wrap up the repairs to the broken down bike and then embarked for the desert west towards the coast.

Group A caught up to Group B in the desert later that day and there was a small, impromptu reunion and everything seemed OK. There were reassuring gestures from both parts by then, I think, realizing that some friendships and alliances needed to be reconfirmed, and, what the heck, we were all grown men. It was time to start acting like it. But what was done was done and I think the residue of discontent remained somewhere in the back of the primal mind, possibly for some more than others.

A few days later we all regrouped in Los Angeles and had a pretty good time in the hotel and surrounding establishments we visited. However, the large riding group never reunited.

What I learned from this I already knew. It is better to keep to smaller groups when you are doing a long distance trip. It is probably unwise to ride long distances with people who's riding styles and skills are unknown to you. If you designate a responsible person to lead, then the others automatically agree to follow. If you can't do that then you shouldn't be in that group or, at the very least, should stop to address the problem calmly. Communication is imperative, at all stages and levels. Patience and understanding, equally important. Don't bitch.

Get Lost

My last day on the road

Blue Ridge Mountains. It was a bit muggy and hazy up there.


The Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) should really be called the Blue Ridge Trail or something like that. It is twisty and windy all along this two lane road. Very slow going. The fastest I ever went on this thing was about 40 mph. On the curves you have to slow down to 35, 30, 25 mph. After a few hours I knew that if I ever wanted to make it home on this day I would have to get off this thing. As my friend, "El Jefe" Dave Ball, mentioned to me in an email, I would probably be mountained out by this point. Frankly, I wasn't really mountained out. I can't get enough of this stuff. But I was a little antsy by now, knew I had to get moving, and had a long day of riding ahead of me. This constant nagging in the back of my head really didn't let me fully enjoy a peaceful and relaxing ride up here. I also couldn't make the Sky Line Drive further up north on this road. I think I can take a weekend trip down here and just target this ride by itself.

I have to give mention of this couple I found riding up on the BRP. This fellow, he was a big boy. I would guess easily above 300 lbs. He had his wife or girlfriend on the back and she was no lightweight either. Anyway, he was riding this big bike, a full bagger. But the thing that got me was the skills this guy had on these winding roads. Who knows, maybe he's up here every week but he was flying on this thing. I certainly couldn't keep up with the guy. He was smooth and effortless, a motorized ballet of sorts. I was just trying not to fly off on one of these curves. So with the stops and all we passed each other a couple times. The last time I just waved him past me 'cause I didn't want to hold them up. He waved thanks as he took off.

Riding these kinds of roads requires intense concentration. It's not anything like riding on the highway or in town. At once you are speeding down this straightaway only to brake hard at the bottom and make a hairpin turn followed by another hair pin turn going the other way and then a turn that seems to take you around almost 360 degrees. This kind of stuff goes on and on and on. It is stressful and take a lot out of you after a while. Naturally, when you are riding like this it becomes difficult if not impossible to be sightseeing or just take any meaningful amount of time to be looking at the scenery.

I have ridden mountain roads many times before but not so much in so little time. For a recreational rider like myself, you sometimes forget, forget the importance of taking time to remain measured at all times. Back in West Virginia on leg one of this trip I almost took a spill. After a 500 mile day I was tired, hungry and anxious to get to eating and then back to sleep. Leaving the hotel, which was atop a hill, I zoomed down the winding road and went too fast into a curve. West Virginia doesn't invest too much capital into little things like shoulders on the roads or even proper design of these local roads, I think. I sped into a sharp curve, almost ran into a rocky gully on the side of the road, but managed to stay on the gravelly rim of the pavement. My rear tire was starting to slide out as I was pumping my brakes ever so slowly and then not at all but just riding it out. A bit of a scare. But lesson well taken.

I almost ran into a turkey on the BRP. A huge bird. Thing took flight as I almost hit it. It was flying about 10 ft. right above me in the same direction I was riding. We kept this up for about 20 seconds. Dumb thing must of been scared out of it's wits. I eased off and it flew into some trees. Very interactive moment. You don't get that in a car.

Later on I got lost a bit trying to get out of the BRP and onto the interstate. But on the way I found the James River and this lovely spot on the side of the road. There were some families picnicking, a couple sun bathing, a kayaker .






Thought this guy teaching his little girl how to fish was worth capturing. Reminded me of my own daughter when she was a bit smaller and we used to go fishing. She used to like to eat the plastic worms.




Even though I had a long day of riding ahead, something was telling me I had to spend some time here. Decided to relax a little bit and grab a little bite.





Lunch









This kayaker stopped here to have lunch himself.


Attracted by the laughter of the young girls, I approached this family that had been tubing down the river and were packing it up. One of the guys had a parent in NJ. Everybody along the way was connected to NJ someway or another. But these folks were very nice, wanted to know where I had been and where I was going. They wished me a safe ride home. I felt the sincerity.

It's hard to find quiet spots like this back in NJ. There's so many people in the northeast that moments like this one hardly come along. So I reveled in the moment. Day dreamed a little about kayaking, fishing with my daughter, picnicking, laying out on the grassy banks of the James River, napping under a tree. Ahhhhhhh. It was a good stop. Glad I got lost.

Made it Back

What I'm looking like after Coast to Coast and back again.





Made it back home last night. Took off Dublin, VA 10am and got home 9:15pm. Almost 12 hours on the road. Did about 2-3 hours on the Blue Hills Parkway midday. Had to get out; got lost getting out. That's OK. put in 550 - 600 miles. Made it home. Didn't recognize home. "This is not my beautiful house and this is not my beautiful wife" ('cause I don't got one). Ha.

More to come. More blogs. More comments and pictures. It ain't over yet!

Duckies & Brothers

"This is a Rubber Duck and I'm about to put the hammer down." "Ten-four."







I've got to say that most truckers have been treating me right on the road. Except the Fed-Ex guys with two trailers hitched up trying to pass on the left lane going up a hill. They's I could do without, y'hear?. But all and all they're OK. I'm amused that some are women. Not that there's anything wrong with that; I'm aaaallll for it. I'm pulling up to this truck one time and it looks like a little kid is driving it, little head barely over the steering wheel. Then she steps out at the rest stop and smiles like, "What did you expect? Mr. T?" Many of them ride Harleys themselves and just come up to me to start talking MC.

I use the truckers to pace myself on the highway a lot being my speedo is still out. Oh, yeah. Been to two HD dealers and the thing is still broke. Either the first dealer in Kansas misdiagnosed the problem telling me it's the speed sensor or the Las Vegas Dealer didn't fix it right after I ordered it and they installed it. Guy at Vegas says I need a new speedometer itself. Something just ain't right. And what am I gonna do? I'm on the road far from home. Basically, I think I'VE BEEN BAMBOOZLED.











So I'm riding somewhere in Oklahoma or Arkansas and I find myself in the midst of a few of these fine fellows you see here. It's like the traffic was forcing me onto them, like a higher force was pulling me into this group (tongue in cheek). At first, I didn't know what Seed of Abraham J/C M/C was. I figured enough it was a motorcycle club. And I stay away from those generally which is the proper course of action. But I had no choice here and I kinda went with it and joined them from the rear, staggered formation, like I was cool, don't mess with me.

Later I noticed that there were many more behind and closed up behind me. It was a goddamn caravan with trailers and everything. Turns out they're a Christian biker club. Must have been a convention of some sort they'd had. Dear Lord. So I'm trying to remember all the scriptures I can from my bible days. And I'm practicing in my head. And then it comes to me, "what if they ask me if I'm saved?" How do you answer that?

They were cool though. Once there was a clearing I jetted out and they waved. I waved too: the sign of the cross. We passed each other a couple times throughout the day. Peaked my curiosity though. A novel and, I think now, probably effective way to minister the gospel.

Tennessee mountains sunset from the hotel
Gordon, TN

Nice way to end the day -->








I was set back for hours with a truck accident which shut down the Interstate for hours in 96 degree heat. Hell. Found an underpass parked the bike and shut it off to keep it cool. Guy came by and offered me a Coke. Truckers stopped to talk to me. Ladies smiled and waved at me. Trooper came by and told me I couldn't stay there. You starting to see a pattern here?

Mighty Mississippi River. Not all of it just an arm.





After I crossed the Mississippi River I felt like I was close to home again. Felt like I could almost walk home if I had to now. Funny, after all the miles I've travelled.

Gordon, TN is a cool but tiny place. Had dinner at the Timberloft. They actually had satellite radio. Hallelujah. The bartender Andrea and this fellow I met at the bar Gordon from Kentucky, he farms and raises cattle there, were a pleasure to meet. I'd return here if I'm in the area again.

The King

While in Memphis, I had to stop by Graceland and pay my respects to the King. It's quite a bit touristy there and I had my second thoughts since it was going to set me back at least a half a day. But it was worth it. Uh- huh....

Some of the Harleys he owned.

Electra Glide 1200

Custom Chopper 1200 he had built


I'll upload all the pics to FLICKR when I get a chance. Right now gotta get on the road. I'm falling way behind schedule.

Pink Cadillac. Nice.