Raven's Roads
Living an interesting life: the travels and musings
of motorcycling author Linda R. Moore

Apr 6, 2005

She wanted adventures

I asked for adventures, and I got them.

For a start, it took me nearly two hours to leave. There was one stupid clip on the saddlebags that I could NOT get. I heaved and shoved and cursed and almost wept with the frustration of it, and then finally got the sucker. It involved yanking very hard to get an extra couple of inches out from under the seat. It’s secure, but not even. I guess the saddlebag on the other side is a bit heavier and is pulling it out.

Once again I am reminded of exactly how frustrating, physical, and clumsy motorcycling can be.

The rest seemed to go okay. I know how to wield my bungees now.

It was pretty hot, and very dry. I eventually set out and got onto I-40 just down the road. Ten miles later I crossed into Arizona with a little whoop of joy. You see, this is the first time I have ever ridden my own motorcycle out of state. I have been on back to Nevada, but have never actually ridden out of California myself. The desert looks the same, though I did notice some Grand Canyon style formations, where the rock was eroded, in between hanging on while it was windy. The wind never really gave up. I don’t know how much is a function of the freeway and how much is just it’s this time of year and the wind blows across a flat surface, but it got a bit old.

So did the fact that I couldn’t shift down beyond third gear. I pulled in at the first rest stop and stretched my legs, about forty miles along. I took a short walk into the desert and took pictures of the pretty flowers. In another week the whole place will be a mass of colour .

I pulled away in third gear, feeling a bit upset. Then I gave up and pulled off at a truck stop. It was a funky place to give up gracefully: the most un-female place in Arizona. Big butch truck stop with a strip club attached. It also turned out to be the start of the stretch of Route 66 I had planned to ride today.

I called my towing service and then sat and read for the first time on this trip. Casey sorted me out and some while later a tow truck showed up. Ed was not the talkative type, so I took pictures of the rather disconcerting image of my poor motorcycle being lifted into the air on two big straps with hooks on the end, then balanced on a thin strip of metal and pootled along behind.

I had stopped about three or four miles shy of Kingman, a large town which had a Suzuki dealership, where The Beast was duly delivered. A really, *really* cool guy called Tom took over the job, dropped whatever else he had been doing and took a look. He pretty much figured that the problem had been when I dropped the bike on the day I bought it. The footpeg was bent - that was something I didn’t care about much - but it had also bent the shifter lever. And, on these long rides where it got very hot, it simply seized up. Bingo. It took a mallet to fix the bent peg and a bit more effort to do the rest, including a broken clamp on the exhaust, and I got to chat with an interesting person with a sense of humour who reminded me in many ways of Don. It was not the afternoon I had expected, but it was a good one nonetheless.

This is not a boring trip.

Oddly, this has increased, not undermined, my confidence. I followed my nose back to a motel I had noticed before, and am there tonight. I will give details tomorrow, when I am not there any more, or whenever someone reminds me if I forget. It was absolutely marvellous to ride the motorcycle as nature intended. Oh, and I even remembered my sunblock. Life is good.

Tonight I find myself somewhere with wireless access, and I am indulging in it quite gratuitously. The days are going by very quickly. Tomorrow I intend to do my ride down route 66, as not doing so will avail me nothing, and then I will camp near, but not in, the Grand Canyon. I suppose I will miss my sunrise, but I am meeting friends a little further down the road, and am looking forward to that. I’m kinda proud of myself for all sorts of little personal reasons.