I Got Gas and Can't Get Lost

OK, so a month and a-half since my last update isn't the best way to remain fresh with planning this trip. It just so happens that the end of August and the entire month of September is one long blur of last-blast vacations, mini-trips, school starts, football season, and in my family, back-to-back-to-back birthdays. And as much I would love to totally zone on my single-man coast-to-coast trip, family comes first.

In looking ahead to the trip--now just 7 months away--one of the realities that needs to be accounted for in planning is bike fuel. My Tiger gets approximately 225 miles to the tank, depending on the ride. That comes to about 13 fill-ups along the way. Since most of the trip will be on highway roads, I'm not too worried about running out of gas. And with the AAA membership, if the tank does hit the big "E," emergency service should be a phone call away.

I definitely do not have the rights to use this image.

One of the accessories for sale on bike vendor websites is the extra fuel canister. They carry less than a-half a gallon of liquid and attached to side cases. They are also usually bright red. 

As much as the idea of adding these to my bike seems like an awesome adventure bike add-on, they also seem unnecessary for this trip. If my goal was to explore the upper-reaches of Canada and take the Tiger into the wilds of BC, then sure, I definitely see the need.

Take, for instance, the author of this story. His trek and the one I took in August--from Seattle to Vancouver Island--started the same, but he and his pack dwarfed my little trip. For a trip like that, you definitely want back-up fuel supplies. When you're on a ride like that, civilization is in the rear-view mirror the whole way.

Which leads me to my next point: getting lost. A year ago, I rode from Seattle out to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and then on to Glacier National Park. Somewhere in Montana, I zigged when I should zagged, and found myself technically lost. I didn't know where to go, had no phone signal, and there were no road signs pointing me the way.

So I rode.

I consciously rode with no route in mind and no way to contact anybody for help. In the back of my mind, I knew that civilization would eventually pop up. Probably in the form of a small farming town with one or two gas stations. But for that one moment, time spun backwards to a point when adventure meant discovering something new, seeing places and people unknown, and really being in the moment.

I'm betting that the upcoming trip will have distractions; text messages from home, calls from the office, and worries about cellphone coverage. And with a route that's pretty direct, the chances of getting lost are slim. But if there's one thing that promises to suspend the structure of this trip, and really make it an adventure, it's the opportunity to get lost. I hope it happens.

As long as I have gas.

Papa's Got a Brand New Bag

So I've got this buddy Pedro who's put more mileage on his bikes in the past several years than anybody I know.

• First, he rode with some friends from Redmond up to Barrow, Alaska. And, yep, he went for a brief swim in Prudhoe Bay once he got there.
• And last year, he rode from Redmond to Rio de Janeiro. Check out his trip log on Facebook. Yeah, that's right: 13,000 on a 650 Suzuki V-Strom.

One of the many tips I've picked up from Pedro for long-haul rides is to make sure everything stays dry. Seems obvious, because it's what I preach to my kids when we go skiing (the Cascades are snowy and notoriously wet), and hiking/camping: stay warm and dry, but you can't be warm if you're not dry.

One way to keep everything dry on long rides is to invest in a dry bag system.

After researching the available options on the market, I settled on the DrySpec D66 Waterproof Dry Bag Modular Packing System.

In orange, of course.

The DrySpec D38 mounted on the back of
my Triumph Tiger.

The DrySpec D66 is actually a two-bag system comprised of the D28 and the D38 (the numbers refer to the liters carrying capacity). 

I went with the two-bag system, rather than a one-size-fits-all single bag system to allow for better compartmentalism of gear on the road. This is important, because when you pull into a campsite in a downpour, you want to keep your clothes and sleeping bag nice and dry while you pull the tent out for set-up. Keeping gear in smaller waterproof bags is another thing I picked up from Pedro. It's best if the bags are see-through. 

My first test run of the D66 system was for the trip to Vancouver Island. The summer weather on the Big Island (second biggest in the Pacific Ocean) is dry, so I wasn't testing for waterproof-ness. This test was for carrying capacity, easy of access, and attaching to the bike. For the record, I took just the D38 with me. Here are my initial thoughts:

•  Attaching the D38 to my bike was pretty easy. Just loop each of the 4 straps to secure parts of the bike and slide the strap anchors through the bag loop. The Tiger lacks a symmetrical attaching configuration, but the straps will secure to anything you can loop around.
• The internal plastic frame of the D38 holds the bag shape pretty well and keeps the bag from sagging over the edge of the rear seat and into the bike's moving parts. It also prevents annoying wind flapping.
• The opening of the bag on top is like a mouth, rather than a 3-sided flap that unzips. This helps keep your stuff dry but it also can make it tough to dig around for gear. Best to have some sort of logical packing system so you know where to dig when you are in a hurry.
• The D66 comes in three colors; black, gray, and orange. You know I like to be seen on the road. Having the D38 strapped across the back of my bike gave me a little extra sense that drivers behind me would see the bike.

The D38 on the Tiger on the ferry from 
Sidney, BC to Anacortes, WA.

The bike is going to need a few more trials before I head to the East Coast, but I'm confident that I made the right choice.

Me and My HD Ghost

One of the side goals of P2P is to capture footage of the ride. I'll be crossing through some magnificent scenery and I want to capture it right.

In looking around for an action video camera (vidcam), I settled on the Drift HD Ghost. It's not the market leader, but if you read all the user reviews, you'll see that it doesn't have all the quality issues that come with GoPro.

The Drift HD Ghost is a sweet little unit. It's solid, compact and bullet shaped. This is more appealing to me than the other vidcams on the market. Since I'll be using it mainly for riding, being aerodynamic is a plus.

My Drift HD Ghost gear.

What you see in the photo to the right is pretty close to what you get out-of-the-box with a Drift HD Ghost purchase. Everything in the photo (starting upper-right and going clockwise):

• Remote control and wrist strap. The colored lights let you know it's on and recording
• The HD Ghost. LCD screen and four-button controls along the top
• Microphone. Purchased extra
• Bar mount. Purchased extra
• Camera mounting clip

The unit comes with a couple mounting clips. With the HD Ghost mounting clips, you really are making a commitment since they have a strong adhesive and bond to whatever they come into contact. 

I have yet to try the microphone. I bought it because the HD Ghost mic is overwhelmed by wind noise at high speeds.

In view: the black clip on the helmet
and on the top of the side case.

For my current set-up, I've chosen the right side of my helmet and the right side case of my Tiger. Each has its positives and negatives:

• Helmet
• Pros: Stable footage and POV angle
• Con: Lots of wind noise
• Side Case
• Pros: Great off-center view of the ride. Engine is audible.
• Cons: Side case doesn't absorb road vibration very well and the camera can get knocked loose

See for yourself what I mean about the pros and cons in the raw footage below. 






By now, most folks have seen my Glacier National Park video, which you can see here. Here's another example of footage from the side case angle:




One thing I still want to do is experiment with other mounting options. This guy has some great ideas on shooting motorcycle footage.

Can You Hear Me Now?

By now you've read my thoughts on safety. Most of my gear decisions are based on protection and visibility (Hello, orange helmet!). Being heard is just as important, especially when you're in the blind spot of a car at 70 miles an hour.

There are three ways to make yourself heard when you're on a motorcycle:

1. Honk your horn
2. Rev your engine
3. Scream real loud

The second one works well when riding a Harley Davidson, but not as much when you're on a touring bike.

The third one is iffy because you're competing with car noise, radios, conversations, traffic, and in the case of full-face helmets, your own head protection.

It's the first one I'm focusing on with this post.

PIAA horn: NIB. Stock horn on the right.

Since most bikes come with stock horns that serve their purpose and not much else, I replaced the stock horn on my 2009 Triumph Tiger 1050 with a PIAA Slim-Line Sports Horn. This was my second attempt; during the first attempt, the horn stopped working, but the guys at I-90 Motorsports in Issaquah and the PIAA distributor took care of me and gave me a free replacement.

On the '09 Tiger 1050, the horn is mounted right between the front fork. It's an ideal position for projecting sound and just a little tricky for replacement. I had to be really patient with the 12mm wrench--no full rotations here--each time I loosened and tightened the bolt. 

Triumph gives you just enough wire.

There's also two extra wrinkles in replacing horn on my Tiger; the stock wires are just long enough to reach the stock horn, and the mounting bolt is off-center near the left fork. To work within these restrictions, I had to carefully, very carefully, pivot the Slim-Line mounting arm to a position where I could thread the bolt through, get the wires to reach their connectors, and get the wrench in to tighten the bolt. This is probably not unusual for mechanics, but for a guy who doesn't spend a lot of time under the hood, it was a little nerve-wracking.

Rubber washers and
blue lock are extra.

The Slim-Line comes out of the box ready to mount--it's plug-and-play--but I wanted a little extra security in the installation, so I inserted rubber washers on each side of the mounting arm through the mounting bolt (to absorb vibration), and dropped a little blue lock on the threads of the bolt for an extra grip. Probably not necessary, but it didn't seem to hurt.

Since the last time I tried this I made a bit of a mess, the PIAA rep suggested that this time I mount the horn and then attach the wires. That seemed to do the trick because the horn worked on the first try.

Check out the video below to hear the difference between the two horns.

The PIAA Slim-Line Sports Horn currently sells for about $65.

Sometimes you just can't avoid stupid

So this thing about safety: I find that it's never really over-rated. Whether on a motorcycle on the highway, or in a car in city traffic, accidents happen. And with the advent of action video cameras (vidcams), a lot more motorcycle accidents are getting captured and uploaded to the Interwebs. Take this video for example:

Each crash makes me wince. Especially the ones you can see coming a mile away. Each crash reinforces for me the need to wear a helmet and protective gear. Each one practically screams: go easy on wet pavement, don't do stunts, always look out for the other guy, don't split lanes" (Sorry California, but splitting lanes is just stupid), and don't ride motorcycles in Asia.

Required gear for the road: coffee, protein,
maps, and Shoei RF 1100.

On my ride to Glacier National Park last year, I noticed that Idaho and Montana don't have helmet laws. Sure, it can get hot riding on a summer day, but one bad accident can cause more harm than ruining your day.

So, not to be too much of a bummer of a posting, I'm closing out with my video from the Glacier ride. Thank you, Boston! Enjoy!

Class Act

1) Safety
2) Comfort
3) Style

This is the order I use for making my gear choices.  So when I head out next Spring for my cross-country journey, I'll be loaded up with gear that's been acquired with these priorities in mind.

In switching from a cruiser to a dual-sport bike, I joined a new class of riders. You see, within the motorcycling community there are different classes of bike types, and each has specialized types of gear. You can read about the different types here.

Mix, match, and Mojo.

So far, I've managed to avoid committing to one class of gear. What I wear has been a kind of mish-mash; a textile jacket, combined with jeans, leather chaps, and Army swamp boots. But the more I get into touring, the more I find myself gearing up to suit the ride.

My previous bike; the Suzuki Volusia, was a cruiser, but I never bought a leather jacket until last year. Before that, I wore textile jackets. The first was a Fieldsheer Mach 1. Plenty of armor and extremely lightweight. Perfect for summer riding in Virginia. But it wasn't so waterproof or warm, and after a few years got a little snug across the waist. If I have to suck in my gut to zip up a jacket, it's time for a new jacket.

So next I picked up a 3-season Teknic textile jacket. I still have it and up until recently was my primary riding jacket. It's a great cover for tour-style riding. It's really comfortable, and warm and dry. But it's showing its age along the piping. It's also black. Since I tend to be the slightly nervous type, I had been thinking of a replacement for a while with something that's easier to see.

A hornet snacking on the remains of
something during a stop in Kalispell, MT.

The newest jacket I picked up specifically for this trip. The First Gear Kilimajaro is a serious motorcycle jacket. It's all-season and waterproof. Armored. White. Yeah, I know. It's white.

I try to avoid all white clothing because I'm a chronic spiller. Plus, when you're out on the road in the summer, you tend to collide with flying objects; small rocks and bugs. When I traveled last August to Glacier National Park in Montana, the hornets would swarm my bike at each stop--they really honed in on the 'protein' that stuck to the front of my bike. Knowing that I'll be riding into a lot bugs as I cross the country, I full-well expect to resemble a Jackson Pollock painting by the time I hit Iowa.

One last note about jackets: last fall I picked up a BMG leather jacket. Armored and good-looking, I can wearing it on the bike or off (without looking like a doofus). It will stay home for this trip.

For pants, I've been wearing jeans for years. Namely, an extra-long pair of Northeast Outfitters from Dick's Sporting Goods. No padding, but they're long so I avoid the cold breezes up the leg. That was really important with the feet-forward Suzuki cruiser. I tried the waterproof pullovers a couple times; Frog Togs. But they aren't worth the money in my book; always ripping or getting holes burned in them from the engine.

Recently I picked up a pair of cold weather and waterproof Tour Master Venture pants. I like the feel of the armor and extra layers to stay warm. But when I wear jeans under them, the denim and the overpants bunch up behind the knees, which causes a fair amount of discomfort. I have to stretch my legs while riding more often. I still need to try them wearing shorts, and also with the liner removed. I'm already making mental notes for stretch stops along the P2P ride.

EDD: Early May

So the other day I was riding my Tiger back home from the shop. Fresh brakes installed and breaking in at every red light. The ride was less than 10 miles and along some beautiful scenery; the eastern side of Lake Sammamish. It was a beautiful day of blue skies, sunshine, and high temperatures.

My Tiger parked above the Columbia River in Eastern Washington.

Now, for those of you who do not live in the Pacific Northwest, high temperatures includes anything over 70 degrees. Live here long enough after living anywhere else and your body becomes acclimated to narrow temperature fluctuations--it's neither really cold nor really hot. And when it is, you feel it.

So there I was, riding in a short-sleeve shirt feeling might toasty, when it occurred to me that my Puget-to-Potomac run is planned for next summer. That's not a problem for here, but crossing the Midwest and into the Mid-Atlantic states in late June or mid-July will probably wilt me.

Don't even get me started on the humidity.

Portrait of my father and my grandfather's medals displayed
during last year's Veteran's Day ceremony at school.

So, in sharing my concerns with Cece, she came up with the great idea of arriving in DC for Memorial Day in time for Rolling Thunder. Brilliant. I leave Seattle in mid-May under probable cool, gray skies, and arrive in DC to the last bloom of cherry blossoms and one of the largest annual congregations of motorcyclists in the country. I've never ridden in Rolling Thunder, so it would be a great cap to the journey.

And as Rolling Thunder is the annual ride to remember our soldiers who fell in combat or are missing, I can also combine it with a visit to Arlington National Cemetery, to visit the tombstones of my father and grandfather.

So right now, the estimated departure date (EDD) is mid-May. 

Next up, staying warm and dry.