Coast to coast in 48 1/2 hours

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Think I got stuck in that same hell hole motel years ago ( in Henderson) Was a 115 degress & had to get off the bike before I fried

 
It was time to make my run for the coast. It was 1964 the last time I saw the coast of California. The Beatles were rockin' out the country, the Stones couldn't get no satisfaction, the British invasion was just beginning, Ed Sullivan was seriously popular (my fav was Topo GIgio) and LBJ was in the White House orderin' up more troops for some place called Vietnam. I was 8 years old and my biggest thrill was the day we went to Disneyland. I'd never been to an amusement park in my life before that day. Ha, Walt Disney hadn't even thought of Disney World yet, which is about 70 miles from my house right now. It was Friday, and I left Hoover Dam around 11am, I think, and it was already broiling outside. However, little did I know that because I was in the mountains, I was about to find out what Bachman Turner Overdrive meant when they said, "B-B-B-Baby, you ain't seen N-N-N-Nothin' yet." I was on my way to meet Brett Gross, alias Bgross on this forum. As the day wore on, the heat became unbelievable. I remember at one point, sticking my hand out into the wind blast and feeling a burning sensation between the fingers of my gloves. A couple times when I popped up the face shield of my Shoei Neotec modular helmet... to get a drink of water from that AMAZING Camelbak that HotRodZilla loaned me, that my face caught the direct windblast coming over the windshield. I sat up a little too straight in the saddle I guess. The air actually burned my skin, it was so hot it felt a little like holding a hair dryer too close to your face. I'm thankful that the FJR's wind protection is so effective that there is literally no virgin air hitting the rider. One fella at a gas station said it was about 113 at one point when I asked. Not sure how much hotter it got as the day wore on, but the folks I spoke to said they were having dangerously high temps that weekend. However, once I got within 50 miles of San Clemente, the temperature dropped like a stone. I couldn't believe the difference once ya get near to the ocean, and up off that dreaded desert floor. The weather in that city is like heaven. When I got to Brett's house, I parked the bike in his garage, next to his FJR and Gold Wing

CIMG1899.jpg


I'm a little sad that I didn't take more pictures at Brett's house. He's quite the gardener. He's got some amazing stuff growing in the back yard. For example, he handed me a fresh nectarine when I first got there. By the time i got done, the thing was drippin' half way down my arm, but my soul, I never tasted anything like that before. Didn't realize what I've been missing. So I got to hang out with him, his wife, and his mother-in-law, who was visiting. I was treated like royalty, what a joy it was to get to know him and his family. It was there that I set the final plans in motion to begin my 50cc the next morning. Brett was a huge help providing weather and gas stop information... which would come in real handy the next day. He warned me about the temps I'd encounter the next day trying to make it across the desert, and that I was welcome to stay another couple days until things cooled off a little, but I was committed. At 4:30am, I was up and on my way south to San Diego to begin my run. The temps were actually rather chilly that morning... the last time I would get to enjoy that "problem" for a long time.

More later

Gary

 
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I don't know how you guys ride in 100 degree plus heat. Then I am a slug from the Seattle and we whine when it is 85+.

That hotel is the reason I intend on upgrading my next trip to Best Western or better. When I am on the road I want wifi and other comforts, not hassles and issues.

Great ride report! This report is a candidate for best report this year.

 
Great report, Gary! I'm really enjoying it. I think we need to hire you & RedFishHunter to just travel around and write ride reports. It's hard to find entertainment this good!

 
I think that if we got a film crew together to follow him around we could all make millions. You just can't make stuff like this up on the fly. Of course we'd have to get a femme fatale involved. You just can't have a good reality show without some romantic tension and eye candy.

 
I don't know how you guys ride in 100 degree plus heat. Then I am a slug from the Seattle and we whine when it is 85+.
Yea, but we whine when it's 40F and rainy, which to you guys is good motorcycling weather.
biggrin.png
 
It was time to make my run for the coast. It was 1964 the last time I saw the coast of California. The Beatles were rockin' out the country, the Stones couldn't get no satisfaction, the British invasion was just beginning, Ed Sullivan was seriously popular (my fav was Topo GIgio) and LBJ was in the White House orderin' up more troops for some place called Vietnam. I was 8 years old and my biggest thrill was the day we went to Disneyland. I'd never been to an amusement park in my life before that day. Ha, Walt Disney hadn't even thought of Disney World yet, which is about 70 miles from my house right now. It was Friday, and I left Hoover Dam around 11am, I think, and it was already broiling outside. However, little did I know that because I was in the mountains, I was about to find out what Bachman Turner Overdrive meant when they said, "B-B-B-Baby, you ain't seen N-N-N-Nothin' yet." I was on my way to meet Brett Gross, alias Bgross on this forum. As the day wore on, the heat became unbelievable. I remember at one point, sticking my hand out into the wind blast and feeling a burning sensation between the fingers of my gloves. A couple times when I popped up the face shield of my Shoei Neotec modular helmet... to get a drink of water from that AMAZING Camelbak that HotRodZilla loaned me, that my face caught the direct windblast coming over the windshield. I sat up a little too straight in the saddle I guess. The air actually burned my skin, it was so hot it felt a little like holding a hair dryer too close to your face. I'm thankful that the FJR's wind protection is so effective that there is literally no virgin air hitting the rider. One fella at a gas station said it was about 113 at one point when I asked. Not sure how much hotter it got as the day wore on, but the folks I spoke to said they were having dangerously high temps that weekend. However, once I got within 50 miles of San Clemente, the temperature dropped like a stone. I couldn't believe the difference once ya get near to the ocean, and up off that dreaded desert floor. The weather in that city is like heaven. When I got to Brett's house, I parked the bike in his garage, next to his FJR and Gold Wing[img=[URL="https://i1185.photobucket.com/albums/z351/garyahouse/50cc/CIMG1899.jpg%5D"]https://i1185.photobucket.com/albums/z351/garyahouse/50cc/CIMG1899.jpg][/URL]

I'm a little sad that I didn't take more pictures at Brett's house. He's quite the gardener. He's got some amazing stuff growing in the back yard. For example, he handed me a fresh nectarine when I first got there. By the time i got done, the thing was drippin' half way down my arm, but my soul, I never tasted anything like that before. Didn't realize what I've been missing. So I got to hang out with him, his wife, and his mother-in-law, who was visiting. I was treated like royalty, what a joy it was to get to know him and his family. It was there that I set the final plans in motion to begin my 50cc the next morning. Brett was a huge help providing weather and gas stop information... which would come in real handy the next day. He warned me about the temps I'd encounter the next day trying to make it across the desert, and that I was welcome to stay another couple days until things cooled off a little, but I was committed. At 4:30am, I was up and on my way south to San Diego to begin my run. The temps were actually rather chilly that morning... the last time I would get to enjoy that "problem" for a long time.

More later

Gary
We enjoyed meeting you and having you spend the night. My MIL (temporary refugee from the heat of PHX) couldn't believe that you were going to ride across AZ the next day, let alone across the country!

That photo of my garage - with your bike and Rose & Lucille really shows how much I use reflective material!

Looking forward to the next installment....

 
This entire journey up till this point has not held true to its title. The title reads, "Coast to coast in 48 1/2 hours... lucky to be alive." Everything I've written thus far was just the introduction. So I woke up Saturday morning, the 29th of June at about 4am, after perhaps 5 hours of sleep. Dumb idea. When you're getting ready to attempt to travel 2400 miles in two days, it's not a good idea to begin this journey on limited sleep. Add to that, I get sleepy just driving 100 miles. It's rare that I travel a couple hours without getting sleepy... and that's when I've had a normal night's rest in MY OWN BED. The problem was, too many things to do and not enough time to get 'em all done. Brett and I were busy planning out the first leg of the 50cc the night before. Now It's been said that most stress doesn't come from having too much to do, but from not finishing what cha start. I was surely guilty of the former, but I was dead sure not going to be guilty of the latter. Undeterred from my lack of sleep or Brett's warnings about the predicted heat for later in the day, I headed for Mission Beach in San Diego, the actual beginning point of my journey. Check it out: isn't the name of this starting point interesting? Mission Beach; if there was EVER a mission started from that beach, this was it. The impossible dream. Me, Gary House attempting to ride coast to coast in 50 hours or less. I've never attempted anything like this in my life. I hoped and I prayed that I could do it. For you all reading this: just another ride report. For me, this was huge, this was a major challenge, this was something that I had many times doubted I could actually accomplish. But it was now or never, as I said before; with my disease progressing, and my stamina declining, if I was ever going to accomplish this, it had to be now. The reason for the urgency to start on this day as opposed to a little later in the week when the temps would be cooler? I'd asked a whole bunch of people to pray for my safety during this time period. The wheels were already set in motion. Wouldn't it just figure that all those guardian angels would show up, but I didn't? I can just hear them, "Hey, where's House? We got 20 people prayin' that he'd have a safe and successful trip, and here we are out in the wilderness waiting for... what? How come he never showed up?" Anyway, I was committed. I was going to begin this trip on time, as planned. And sure enough...

The actual journey, and the subject of this report, begins now.

...I arrived at the shoreline of a place called Mission Beach at about 5:15am local time. I was praying that I could find somebody there that would sign my IBA form, as I needed three witnesses. When I got there, the beach was pretty barren, except for, can you believe it, a mobile TV van filming a special report from the beach for the local news. Guess my prayers were answered... thus far. So I walked up, and waited for the pretty young lady to finish talking to the camera. I was excited about getting to present my case until I heard what was being said: with the camera rolling, she was talking about how unbelievably hot it was going to be that same day. Listening to her speak, I remember thinking, "Are you sure you want to attempt to do this today?" She was talking about the heat on the coast, which would be significantly cooler than where I was headed. I remembered Brett's words about the predicted heat in the desert. I remembered HotRodZilla's words about the fact that I'd NEVER MAKE IT without borrowing his CamelBak. Was this some sort of premonition? I recall being snapped out of my thoughts by these words. "So be warned: temperatures will be dangerously high today." The news-lady finished up her video, and right then and there, I made up my mind. I had come to far to turn back now. I took a deep breath, and I approached with helmet and clipboard in hand to explain my plans. The camera man never commented other than to say, "Sure, I'll sign it." However, his writing was so jerky that I had to ask him several questions just to clarify the information. "Too much coffee," was his reason.

When he finished, I headed down to the beach to get myself a bottle of water and sand from the Pacific Ocean. On the way, I came across three people and their dog walking up from the beach, and asked them to take a couple pictures.

CIMG1911.jpg


Below, they took a few pictures of me, and I thanked them and asked if I could take their picture (above) as well. It was still not quite sunrise yet, but the camera picked it all up pretty well. The following picture is really precious to me. Hope you enjoy it 1/2 as much as I did.

CIMG1910.jpg


With the cap screwed on securely and my bottle of Pacific Ocean water and sand stowed in the Givi, it was time to look for two more witnesses to fill in my IBA form. And sure enough, here came the Margarets. Two retired school teachers, both named Margaret, came walking up after a jog on the beach. And, after explaining what I was going to do, they walked up to the FJR, and...

CIMG1902.jpg


... they signed my IBA form for me. That made 3 witnesses, and I was ready. The first part of my mission was accomplished. Looking at my watch, it was about 20 minutes before 6. I strapped on my helmet, slipped on the Camelbak, fired up the Yammie, and waved goodbye to the ladies. From that point on, it was, "Game on." I took off rather briskly, and thought to myself, goodbye beautiful Pacific Ocean. And it was indeed, beautiful. You'll notice how grainy the picture is. The camera makes it look much lighter out than it was. I headed for the nearest gas station, perhaps 2 miles away, filled up the tank, wrote a large #1 on top of the receipt, noted that it said 5:55am, tucked it securely into a large ziplock bag, and slipped it into my Givi. That was the first of 18 different receipts that I would number and save... and that was the official start of my 50cc. The clock was now officially, "ticking." I set the GPS for "fastest time" to an address that Brett and I had picked out; near the ocean in Jacksonville Beach, Florida. However, in minutes, I made my first wrong turn. The GPS wasn't real clear during a series of quick turns and entrance ramps. UGGGHHH. NOT AGAIN!!! So, I began that internal lecture that I've both given and heard so many times. "You meathead. How do you expect to make a 2400 mile trip in less than 50 hours when you can't get 3 miles from the beach without making a wrong turn and wasting a bunch of time? Get it together, son !!!" So about the time I finished with the lecture, a quick U-Turn got me back on track, and thankfully I only lost a minute or two. Shortly thereafter I was safely eastbound on I-8. Even I can't make a wrong turn now. Or could I?

More later.

Gary

darksider #44

 
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Sorry Jason. It's not like, "My bad." It's like, "My pooped." Long day. But glad I was able to cough up at least that much. I'll get on it again tomorrow.

Nite.

Gary

 
Dammit Man! If you can ride a high performance Sport Tourer Coast to Coast in less than 50 hours, you should at least be able to type the story! You have us all hanging here!

Just kidding my friend. Take your time, I have enjoyed all of it so far and look forward to the rest.

 
Yea, it's like a TV cliffhanger with "To be continued..." at the end. Sigh...

 
Just caught up. What a fabulous story! All of us have probably had epic trips, but are unable to put it in words. Gary, you really do a wonderful job in recreating your trip for all of us to experience too. Very inspiring to say the least. Thank you for sharing, and congratulations on such an accomplishment!

 
Gary, I'm really enjoying the story... and I feel for you kicking yourself (in your head at least) as you start with a wrong turn. Been there... Done that... It's always easy to yell at Garmin lady, but really it's a time to get your head wrapped around the little challenges that all make up a big challenge! Way to go, sir...

 
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