The ONE Picture Ride Report

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Many, many moons ago I owed a motorcycle shop in Northeastern Montana. When I purchased the shop, my brother and I were into Trials Races but not motocross. Most of the young riders were motocross riders. All track time and no riding off road just for fun time. We owned a ranch with lots of room to play so we took the young riders out to the hills, creeks, sagebrush and trails. Needless to say, they became awesome off road riders in no time at all.
Now, many, many years later, one of the young riders, Jeff, who is now a dad with a two sons sent me pictures of Poison Spider Mesa in Moab. Jeff is there riding with his sons and friends having a blast. Jeff said six of the riders there started riding me at the ranch. It gives me a good feeling that I started something that has lasted this long and is a family affair.

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One of my favorite parts about riding in western Montana are the long and wide agricultural valleys. These valleys can extend for 50 or more miles, are flanked by foothills of the Rockies and have a river or stream flowing through them. The single roads through the valleys are normally lightly traveled even during the summer tourist season. Riding through miles and miles of ranch land, visiting the occasional small town and enjoying the gently winding roads never gets old......

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The reason we live here...

Beautiful weather in the PNW today, perfect temperatures for riding and the roads are cleaning up nicely from the long wet winter. Since I normally run around the Cascade foothills, I changed things up and joined Fontanaman for a ride around the Olympic Peninsula and Hood Canal.

Peek-a-boo view of the Olympics from Lake Cushman.

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--G

 
Yesterday was a great day for a 500 mile break in ride for the new bike...so it was down to SEO to meet up with some of the usual characters...



 
Sweet! Looks like it was a great day to ride. Usual characters doesn't sound so bad to me lol. I'm used to dealing with unusual characters during the week.

 
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Snoqualmie Falls roaring today as seen from my cheap, lousy flip phone. I was the only motorcycle there in ten or so motorcycle parking places in the otherwise full lot right next to the entrance. I would have taken that shot as well but this is the One-Picture-Ride-Report thread.

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May 1, 2015

It's been one hell of a week. Meetings, reports, paperwork, meetings, phone calls, problems, meetings, challenges, situations, and oh by the way - did I mention meetings? Seems that week we had a meeting just to discuss scheduling another dog gone meeting. I affectionately refer to it as a "quick sand week". It's like I'm standing in quick sand. The more I move, the more I sink. One step forward, and one big slide backwards. Things are breaking faster than I can fix them.

On the other hand, the weather is beautiful. I look outside my 2nd floor office, and the college students are really enjoying a nice spring day. They are riding bikes, skateboarding, hanging out, or just lying down on the grass with a book. I'm jealous. My box is stale. It stinks.

I need a break. I think I'll play hookie on Friday.

As I taxi out of town, the morning rush hour traffic is stupid. Everyone is in a hurry. Moms are putting on makeup and distributing breakfast in the SUV. Dads are talking on the phone with work, trying to set up things efficiently for the day. Others are just in a stupor - dazed from not enough sleep or worrying about the upcoming busy day.

But not me - my ear buds are racking some 80s tunes and I'm already thinking about my upcoming adventure, which starts in about 10 minutes. Just as soon as I clear that traffic light up ahead.

Go to work suckers, my mental health is just around that next corner....

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The worst weather I've ever been in. I70 going west out of Salina Kansas. I had to ride another 130 miles before I got to my destination. Tornadoes were dropped, lots of lightning and hail. It was at this point that I was very glad I put those Dunlop Roadsmart II's on the Ninja before I started this trek. Even the inside of my helmet was soaked and I was hypothermic by the time I got to my buddy's house.

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Yankee Jim Pass at the southern end of Paradise Valley. This pass leads into the northern gate of Yellowstone NP. Yankee Jim once charged a toll to go through the pass.

Spousal Unit and I spend our anniversary at Chico Hot Springs in Paradise Valley and then follow-up it up with an early ride through the park on our way home.

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This ride was not with my current bike, but with my previous one. But it is especially linked to the FJR.
Indeed, gray motorcycle in the background is my first big bike, a FZ6 S2 S. A great bike that accompanied me during 2 years, and about 40 000 km, all-weather, and every day. While vacationing in the south of France with my uncle, we decide to go to the Mount Ventoux. but unfortunately, the summer this road is rather dangerous, because of tourists can not drive in the mountains, especially the number of bikes that absolutely believe alone on the road, as if they was the tour de France. So we decided to do it very soon Ventoux drive to go even the sunrise, great ... and for the motorcycle ride we made a big loop round the Mont Ventoux (Carpentras, l'isle sur la sorgue, gordes, goult, Lacoste, bonnieux, rustrel, apt, sault, swollen, malaucene ...).
I spent the day taking a driving lesson by my uncle (an experienced biker), and re-discover the region by motorcycle. And a few months after I bought my FJR

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It's a gen I, from 2001, so the hardcases was an option in europe, and many customers has choise the FJR without it. And on mine, I doesn't take it to ride in trafic flow.

 
Riding home from NERDS, my first cross-country trip on motobike. The ride started wet leaving Galena Illinois heading west. Already soaked, wet feet, wet crotch, I wondered if it really could get any worse.

It did.

The nastiest, wettest, coldest, windiest. Any -est word you can think of.

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Finally found an off ramp and MickeyD's. As I was removing wet gear and leaving a big puddle (which the MickeyD employee was wiping up with a mop) the old and grizzled farmer and wife at the next table casually looked me up and down, made eye contact then stated:

"You're from California, aint yah boy?"

 
Riding home from NERDS, my first cross-country trip on motobike. The ride started wet leaving Galena Illinois heading west. Already soaked, wet feet, wet crotch, I wondered if it really could get any worse.
It did.

The nastiest, wettest, coldest, windiest. Any -est word you can think of.

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Finally found an off ramp and MickeyD's. As I was removing wet gear and leaving a big puddle (which the MickeyD employee was wiping up with a mop) the old and grizzled farmer and wife at the next table casually looked me up and down, made eye contact then stated:

"You're from California, aint yah boy?"
I'm thinking that what gave it away to the farmer and his wife was the butterfly that was tattooed on your ass cheek!

 
Dam Carver, that is more than I wanted to know about you!
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