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Happiness is having a daughter that lives on Flathead Lake by Bigfork, Mt. and is happy to see me when I arrive with 9 friends on the way to Spearfish, SD.

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Big Basin Hwy in Nevada in the middle of our first SS1000 with my wife on the back and friends on the other two bikes (the lead bike is the couple the story in the next post are about two years after the deer strike). Day one of the start of a 14 day tour of the National Parks in Arizona, Utah, and Wyoming.

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PNW gang Maupin Run(s), lots of great times and awesome roads! Sitting around the firepit at night wasn't too bad either...Barabus will vouch for me!
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Hudson & Panman

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--G

 


First trip to the SW on bike. I hit SWFOG in 2014 and met a ton of great people. This was at Monument Valley on my return trip taking the long way home.

 
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Fall 2010

I'm hooked. The bike is becoming addictive. Every weekend, I'm venturing out somewhere. I've discovered hundreds of hidden gems in my own backyard that I never knew existed. Some of these were right under my big nose and I never bothered to look from the cage.

I'm going farther too. Weekend day trips of 300 miles are not uncommon. For longer trips to the mountains, I'm still gun shy about riding from the house, so I throw the bike in the back of my truck instead. A close riding friend teases me about this. He insist that riding the whole trip is the ONLY way to tour. I'm starting to buy his theory. But I realize that if I'm going to try this, the 700s is not the best bike for the job. I need some options for luggage and I need a little more frame for my lanky stature.

I'm still strongly attracted to the nighthawk, though. They are light weight, reasonably powered, dead nuts reliable, and dirt cheap. A nighthawk forum member has placed a late model 750 nighthawk for the "I want to sell it" price. He's almost 800 miles away though. We exchange personal messages and I convince him to meet me half way in Montgomery, Alabama. I tell him that if the bike is as he proclaims, I'll buy it.

It was, and I did.

I loved that bike deeply. I rode it almost 17,000 miles in a year. It was so easy to ride, very forgiving. The UJM style was not only attractive to me, but I could fix just about anything with a pair of vice grips, a screwdriver, and a Crescent wrench.

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Soon, the addiction would grow to the next level. But the year I owned Ole Yella was special. Now I could start all adventures from the driveway. And not look back.

Stay Thirsty, my friends.

 
JS'NS, my buddy Panman and me on our first trip to the way north!
...and we're plotting another invasion in 2017.
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--G
How was the FJR on this trip? I notice you also have a Tenere, I took my Tenere up three years ago and would like to go back. However I moved on to the FJR. Which would you rather take back?

Thanks,

Rusty

 
On the hunt last year for Doughboy statues. All my friend Bill really wanted to do was just go for a nice ride in central Ohio, but I convinced him to follow me around that day in my Tour Of Honor quest. He has a good sense of humor.

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JS'NS, my buddy Panman and me on our first trip to the way north!
...and we're plotting another invasion in 2017.
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AKHwy.jpg


--G
How was the FJR on this trip? I notice you also have a Tenere, I took my Tenere up three years ago and would like to go back. However I moved on to the FJR. Which would you rather take back?

Thanks,

Rusty
It really depends how far North into Alaska you intend to go. I believe the road is paved all the way to just north of Fairbanks. Many have ridden their FJR to Prudoe bay if you are inclined to go that far North.

 
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How was the FJR on this trip? I notice you also have a Tenere, I took my Tenere up three years ago and would like to go back. However I moved on to the FJR. Which would you rather take back?
Thanks,

Rusty
I'll shoot you a PM Rusty...want to keep the spirit of 'pants thread alive.

--G

 


My first Iron Butt attempt.

In 2009 my buddy who rides a Rocket 3 told me about the Iron Butt Association and how he wanted to attempt the Butt Burner 1500. I said that sounded like fun although I don't think I had ever ridden over a couple hundred miles in a day before that day.

I mapped out an easy interstate route that took us South on I-29 to Sioux Falls SD, West on I-90 to Billings MT, and finally East on I-94 finishing in Fargo. Things were going great with sunny skies and warm temperatures until we stopped at Wall SD for a snack and fuel when clouds started to form in the West.

We continued West about 25 miles when the skies began to look ominous and thought we better throw on some rain gear so we pulled in to the Old Glory Fireworks stand. We contemplated waiting the storm out there but made the unwise decision to continue on. About 7 miles further we were hit with hail and heavy rain, pinned down and unable to see enough to move. I pointed the FJR into the wind like a weather vain and tried to get small behind the windshield to protect me from the hail. It wasn't working and I was getting pounded by the hail, so I made the decision to leave the bike on the side stand and run for the protection of a bill board along the interstate.

I had a ways to run up hill and had to jump a barb wire fence just before getting to the bill board. As I was running up the hill a huge wind gust grabbed me and threw me up the hill and into the barb wire fence. After becoming untangled, I finally reached the protection of the bill board and looked back to check on my buddy and my bike. My FJR was laying in the bottom of the ditch about 25 feet from where I had parked it, and my buddy was trying to protect himself behind his tipped over rocket. My dream bike was wrecked and hopes of a Butt Burner were dashed as I wondered how we would get ourselves and our wrecked bikes home.

When the hail let up I came down to assess the damage and check on Dave. A car stopped and three guys helped us pick up the heavy pig triumph and pushed my FJR out of the slippery muddy ditch. After assessing the damage it appeared that my bike had been rolled by the wind taking damage to all of the plastics and tearing the right mirror off but both bikes appeared to be rideable. We both attempted to start our bikes but neither one would start after laying downhill in the ditch. We sat there for awhile wondering how we were going to get home and in a desperate attempt I tried to start mine and it came to life. A short time later the big Rocket started also and we took off to go find a better spot to lick our wounds. We made it about 5 more miles when we become pinned down again by another storm but found an underpass for protection.

That night we pulled into Sheridan WY, and checked into hotel to regroup cold, wet, and beat up. We had a nice Mexican meal, grabbed a few beers, and hit the hot tub before hitting the sack. The next morning we woke up to beautiful weather and finished up in Fargo, meeting our wives for dinner with an hour to spare. The sad part is, 6 years later the Iron Butt paperwork is sitting on my desk, and was never even entered. I'm kicking my self in the *** for that.

 
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Not the best picture of my bike, but before the advent of digital photography, this is the best that I have of her.

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My goodness was this bike fast. I went into the dealership because the Nighthawk was showing some signs of wear. And truth be told, I was wanting something faster to keep up with the other squids I was running around with. I behold this beauty at the dealership and I wonder why she is marked so low at $2999. I am figuring I can get it down to about $2500 and then trade my Nighthawk in for $1000. Out the door I am figuring on about 1700. After some conversations with the owner and a test ride, we would talk about the final price.

This was the first time I ever rode a fixed fairing cycle. Actually, it was only the 2nd motorcycle I ever rode so to say it was unnerving was an understatement. Something about not seeing the front of the bike turn in the parking lot was odd at the very least. Underway, it was not an issue as it was more lean than turn.

I headed out for the test ride with a buddy on his Ninja ZX6. He had always blew me away on the Nighthawk. I figured these 1200cc of the FJ would dust him properly. We got away from town a little and found some open interstate. Down to the next exit and turn around was the plan. So off we go. Riding it gingerly for a while to get acquainted, then gradually letting her wind up the tach. With the pipe, jetting, and (something I had never heard of) 4 smooth bore Mikuni carbs, this bike was just begging to send me into orbit. The bike had 4 individual air filters attached to each carb as well. She had no trouble breaking the rear tire loose.

As we clear the traffic on the interstate, we decide to do some roll ons. Since that was what Cycle World said was the best determinant of a great bike at the time. Off we went. 55 to 75mph. Then 55 to 100. Then 55 to 120. After each time, my potential new FJ was pulling away better and better. Then it was time for the 55 to ??? test that we both coveted. Basically a top speed investigation of sorts. She soared past 120. Ran through 130 and then immediately quit. As in SHUT OFF. I had heard of speed limiters, governors, and cut offs, but did not think the bike should DIE. A nano second later the thought of "Did I just break this bike?" ran through my head. So as my buddy caught up to me coasting to the side of the interstate, we racked our brains as to what it could have been. Bike would not fire. Starter worked, gas gauge over half, no dash lights, temp gauge looked okay, it just would not run. After 5 min, which seemed like 60, started to sputter some upon start up. Now I am disappointed, I really like the bike but am not buying a lemon. We start it back up and limp to the dealership. Salesmen asks how I like it and I explain what happened. He says that it has happened before with that bike. Now I am really pissed because being stalled on the interstate was kinda dangerous.

The owner of the dealership wants the bike gone is what the salesman says. Make me an offer is the gist of the conversation. I really like the bike, it is fast, stylish, and comfortable. Did I mention it was fast?? So LowBall him at $1000 out the door. He said "NO WAY". I was persistent and started pointing out all the flaws besides the stranding me by the side of the road. I jump back on the bike again and ride it around for 30 min. In traffic, around town, and anywhere else it runs great. SO FAST. Wheelies in 1st and 2nd are automatic if I can keep the rear tire hooked up. Mechanically it runs fine as long as I do not give it full throttle for more than about 10 seconds. Head back to the dealership for more dickering.

Back and forth we went and I said $1500 OTD with a new helmet or some other stuff. He comes back with the owner and makes me sign a paper that laid out the terms of ALL SALES ARE FINAL. I was like 20 years old and I had a buddy who could fix anything. We worked out the details of the trade and I bought the bike that day.

As for the shut off, it happened a few more times, but I know if I wait a few min, all is fine and I can head on my way. Plus who really needs to give a bike like that 10+ seconds of full throttle?? A week or so later, I am tinkering around with it. I see a fuel valve and hose under the tank that looks kinked. After popping the tank, it is obvious that the hose is about 2 inches too long than is needed to the bank of 4 carbs. I cut the hose off and realized the valve is way too small for the needed amount of fuel to go through. A quick trip to NAPA scores a bigger fuel valve and I never had another problem again. Other than burning up rear tire, blowing out fork seals from wheelies going bad, and performance awards for either speed or noise of the reamed out Vance and Hines pipe but that was my doing.

She served me well. About 23K miles over the next 3 years. Ironically, my first Farkle was a set of off road use only projector head lights to light up the night. Those got me pulled over more than anything else did. You can see them in the mounted under the fairing like a stealth fighter. I was such a dork. Good thing the bike gave me some street cred.

 
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Spring 2011

Hill Country, Texas. My first motorcycle tour door to door. 5 days, 4 nights, and about 1,200 miles of absolutely wonderful riding and weather. Other nighthawkers from Arkansas and Texas met in Bourne, Tx. One of them offered his house for us to crash at. He cooked us some mequite smoked fajitas and they were incredible. I took my camera and shot several hundred pictures. I wanted to use the camera to help me tell the story to my family. I wrote a ride report about it and over 500 people viewed it. Their warm replies were humbling, to say the least.

I'm totally hooked. There is no turning back now.

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We're always looking for that opportunity to ride new and exciting places after riding the same roads in our own neck of the woods time and time again. That opportunity came in Aug. 2012 when our late, great BeemerDonS put together our own personal tour of the Alps Extreme through Edelweiss. I've ridden all across our great states but nothing compared to beauty and excitement of riding through the Alps and Dolomites. It was truly the trip of a lifetime for me and I'll never forget the fun I had riding my rented F800GS and enjoying the company of my fellow AZBeemers and new-found friends on the FJRforum. Stelvio Pass was one of many highlights. The turns on this road give you an ***-kicking lesson on counter-balance & counter-steering, like no other.



 
In August of 2015 my wife and I were entered in a 24 hour rally run by Jonathan Hammy Tan an IBR finisher and part time rally master called the Titan Quest. Our plan was to use this as our first official Saddlesore to get our Iron Butt numbers. Unfortunately as some of you on here know from my previous postings the day before the event my wife was involved in a motorcycle accident on her way to work leaving her with one broken rib and a totalled Harley Davidson. I contacted Hammy on Facebook to let him know she would not be riding and that I was unlikely as well. His first concerns were for her well being and he apologized that so late in the game he couldn't refund entrance fees. We understood and couldn't get upset over that. I was going to just stay home and tend to her but her son would be home and she insisted that I follow our plan and ride. The only request she made was that I carry her rally mascot along and take pictures with it as well as my own at all of our bonus locations. I set out Saturday morning just befor 9 am from Mechanicsburg, PA rode south to Unger, WV to visit the Farnham Collossi then ventured even farther south to Hamer, SC for a picture with Pedro at South of the Border. Turning north I crossed the Chesapeake Bay Tunnel Bridge and headed up the eastern shore of VA into Ocean City, MD to Bethany Beach, DE and then Dover, DE to get a photo of Miles the Monster at the Dover International Speedway. I finished my ride in New Holland, PA at Yoders Family restaurant for scoring and prizes. I covered 1125.1 miles in 23 hours with a 2 hour rest period. Mona and I spoke every hour or two via the Sena headset and she encouraged me the entire trip. This year she'll get her number to go along with mine.
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.... as my wife and I are falling asleep in bed:
(Wifey) "Let me get this straight. You are driving XXX miles away to a place with little or no phone service to ride your motorcycle in the mountains with people you met on the Internet?"

(Pants) "Uh... yeah, that just about covers it."

(Wifey) "And you don't want me to worry about it?"

(Pants) "It will be fine, Mama. These are some good people."

(Wifey) "Oh brother....."
I had a very similar conversation before my first get-together on a Kaw forum in Marlinton, WV in '10. Anyone who has been there knows- complete dead zone. Had to get the hotel desk to turn on the long distance for the room landline so I could call home in the evening to let her know I was ok. Saturday morning the motel was very close to the bottom of the clouds. So a couple of us hopped on our bikes and went thataways <-- up the hill. Very wet, very dense...then poof sunshine!! We had ridden high enough to see the crystal clear sky and were looking down on the clouds. First time I've been able to do that.

The Cass Railroad, old coal burner. New friends, nice ride, nice day.

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