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Artemus Rd., south central PA today:

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Curly Joe [Rich] and I rode over to the Olympic National Park and rode up to Hurricane Ridge. The pavement is smooth as a baby's butt and the views are awesome. If you have not been to the Ridge put it on your bucket list. If you can, go on week days and early mornings. Less traffice and awesome sunrises.

But this ride report is more about getting lost on a 86 degree day.

We were heading back towards Seattle on Hwy 101 and saw a sign that said Old Olympic Highway. Any highway that has Old in the name makes me want to check it out. So we did a u-turn at the next chance we had and headed back to the Old Olympic Highway exit.

Very cool little farms and ranches and great views. I was just running off the GPS and working my way back east. Lots of new views and roads which in my world is a good thing. Humm, Port Williams Road, that looks kind of fun. Damm it, just missed Schmuck Road and this road is a dead end. Aw what the heck, lets check it out.

Marlyn Nelson County Park is a one small boat ramp, locals only seem to know about, lots of shade trees and great walking beaches. Time to take off the hot riding gear, dig out the good cigars and take a walk down the beach. In no time at all, we were cooled off from the ocean winds and refreshed enough to make the push on home through the Seattle traffic.

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Of course we had to take a ferry to get to that traffic which means we had another nice cooling breeze before the traffic.

I love getting lost. It was an awesome day!

 
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Although the ride I took was 24 days long over 9100 miles through 19 states, 5 provinces, 2 border crossings, and 2 languages, my most interesting encounter was on the second day out. I hit a hawk that came out of the ditch. I swerved a little left and ducked my head and right shoulder under the windscreen but hit the hawk with my right leg. I looked in the mirror and he seemed to be happily flying away. 30 or 40 miles down the road I stopped to take a picture of the Snake River Canyon. When I got back on the FJR, this is what I found.

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The hawk had dropped its breakfast in my lap and it rolled down and hooked its paw in the saddle seam. Not wanting to waste it, I ate it instead.
 
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The Bridges to Everywhere

 

I’ve always had a thing for bridges.  I especially enjoy highway bridges of all kinds.  It’s funny how something so benign to some people can fascinate others.  I’d imagine that most people don’t give bridges a second thought.  They see them as utilitarian pieces of infrastructure that get them from here to there, and that’s it.

 

Early in my career, I did technical work in the Engineering College at the University.  Our Civil Engineering students participated in a bridge building design competition.  We actually won the national championship in 1999 and I think that might have been my 15 minutes of fame.  To stand on that stage as the little ‘ole Ragin Cajuns with our students, amid applause and respect from the  likes of MIT, Purdue, Cal Poly, and a host of other prestigious universities in the audience  - well…. that was one fine night.

 

I’ve seen all kinds of bridges over the years.  The ones I like the best are the steel over trusses and cable-stayed bridges.  I love looking at the workmanship and never tire of marveling at how something relatively small can hold and support something so big.  One day I will take a motorcycle tour that is dedicated to finding bridges.  That will be a great ride, to be sure.

 

But I think it’s the innate purpose of the bridge that most impresses me.  When you get right down to it, a bridge is built to connect one side to the other.  A bridge is made to connect two sides safely over adversity.  That adversity can come in many forms but it matters not.  What’s important is that there is a need to have a pathway over there, and the bridge is how it happens.

 

Taken in that light, I believe that bridges, both the physical and the metaphorical bridges, are used to bring people together.  Bridges can be used for people to find common ground.  A way for people to meet in the middle.  Agree to disagree if we must, but in the end, find each other and continue forward.  Without the bridge, progress is possible, but far less efficient and far less effective.  The bridge is the tool that allows us to connect the dots.  And when the dots are connected, the journey makes sense.  At least it makes perfect sense to me.

 

March 2016 – my friend Josh is looking for a break from his winter.  We are separated by 1000 miles, but it will take much more than that to keep us apart.  He saw me down south and it looked so inviting on the other side.  He got to my house and I was honored to show him around.  He took the bridge across and we were both rewarded ten fold.

 

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Stay thirsty, my friends…..

 
Galena, Illinois.

Heavy heavy rain. Indescribable wind gusts. 

(Self) Where is everybody? Why am I the ONLY vehicle on this interstate? Something is very wrong and I don't know what..

(Self) Where the **** is a hiding place? No overpasses anywhere?

(Self, almost panicked) Get the **** to shelter like NOW.

Found a MickeyD's about 5 miles up. Stashed the FJR in the trash bin area on the 'less' windy side of the building.

Two MickeyD employees opened the locked door for me.

I'm dripping water everywhere. I'm drenched. A MickeyD employee shows up with mop and bucket.

(Self) I'm so sorry to make such a mess.

(Self) Looking across to next table. An older couple. Stereotypically mid-westerners. Blue jeans, overalls, she with a short gray bun. 

(Locals) "You ain't from around here are you? 

Can you identify what was about to happen with this horizontal rolling cloud formation?

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Galena, Illinois.

Heavy heavy rain. Indescribable wind gusts. 

(Self) Where is everybody? Why am I the ONLY vehicle on this interstate? Something is very wrong and I don't know what..

(Self) Where the **** is a hiding place? No overpasses anywhere?

(Self, almost panicked) Get the **** to shelter like NOW.

Found a MickeyD's about 5 miles up. Stashed the FJR in the trash bin area on the 'less' windy side of the building.

Two MickeyD employees opened the locked door for me.

I'm dripping water everywhere. I'm drenched. A MickeyD employee shows up with mop and bucket.

(Self) I'm so sorry to make such a mess.

(Self) Looking across to next table. An older couple. Stereotypically mid-westerners. Blue jeans, overalls, she with a short gray bun. 

(Locals) "You ain't from around here are you? 

Can you identify what was about to happen with this horizontal rolling cloud formation?

View attachment 85
Dude, I've lived here all my life and I ain't NEVER seen nuthin' like that! That looks fookin' alien!

 
Galena, Illinois.

Can you identify what was about to happen with this horizontal rolling cloud formation?

View attachment 85
Ran this past my meteorologist friend:

"It’s a roll cloud. So probably an outflow boundary of some kind... along the edge of a pool of cold air dumped out by a storm... like a mini cold front."

He also confirmed it is of alien origin and should not be photographed.

 
Interesting. I've never seen one before. Shortly after this pic I was the ONLY vehicle on the hi way. Thought it might be tornado not yet vertical but I'm a Metrologist, not weather guy.. :)

 
May 2017

Riding The Rails

 

My Dad loves trains.  And because he likes them, I like them too.  I’m the oldest of my parents’ three children.  Ever since I could relate to him, my Dad walked on water.  Seriously – that is how he always looked to me.  No matter what the situation, the circumstance, dire or otherwise, my Dad always knew what to do.

 

And he knew it with confidence.  Swagger, dare I say.  There is something about a man who carries himself confidently.  Now don’t get me wrong.  Anybody with even an ounce of common sense can smell a bull ******* pretty quick.  Heaven knows, there’s plenty of that going around.  But when you meet someone that is well read, someone that has not only been around the block, but successfully negotiated its speed bumps, well…. that guy is someone I want to know.  My Dad has been “that guy” as long as I can remember.  He’s been that way with all sorts of things.  For example, my father is quite frankly a mechanical genius.  The proverbial Mechanic’s Mechanic.  Me?  I’m a parts changer, my Dad is a mechanic.  The man simply understands instinctively how things work.  I’ve seen him miraculously put things together from a bucket of parts.  And when he’s done, it starts and it runs.

 

And if you are going to like mechanical things, then you simply must give the Train its rightful place in your repertoire.  I watch these kids today with their F-250s jacked up to the sky and their 5-gallon bucket exhaust tips.  They are obviously into it, and they like things that pull load.  Please.  Walk next to a locomotive and stand in awe.  The “Tow Rating” of those puppies has SIX zeros behind it!  Put that in your cold air intake and chew on it for a while…

 

My Dad and I love to go to train museums, especially the ones with an old bone yard.  It’s hard to imagine that boiling water under the right conditions can make something like that move.  Not without lots of hard work, mind you.  An Engineer in those days was not the same Engineer of today.

 

I had model trains as a kid and my Dad and I enjoyed playing with them.  We’d build displays for the model and take our time placing them just right within the landscape.  My model design had a small train yard in it, which allowed me to mimic assembling trains together.  I remember my Dad showing me how to group cars in certain order for safety.  He was a great teacher.  Always making sure I knew the “why”, which has always been my most important question.

 

We’ve been riding together for a few days, heading and wandering toward California.  Andrew’s Dad Pops, who I love like a second father, is with us and we are having the time of our lives.  I’m leading us on the world famous Route 66.  This section is west of Flagstaff, and we are heading toward the Nevada border.  It is just as I imagined the wild west – dry as a bone, hot as hell, desolate, and absolutely gorgeous.  I’ve never been here before, and the uncharted topography is wonderful.

 

As is often the case, a steel rail runs parallel to the highway and soon we catch a train rolling in the same direction.  She’s moving pretty good in this unpopulated area, but at 75 mph, we are overtaking her without much difficulty.  The first thing that catches my attention is there is one locomotive pushing from the back.  Clearly, this baby is loaded.  We roll past the dozens of cars and I notice there is a grade up ahead.  As I get to the front of the train, I can see 3 locomotives pulling.  The engines are puffing a bit, and I know that those big motors are working.  I glanced in my mirror to see my good friends in tow, and for that instant, the world was just perfect.

 

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Thank you Dad, for teaching me about things.  I love you.

 

Stay thirsty, my friends…..

 
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The day after Christmas.  In SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA for crying out loud!  On may way home from San Diego on Interstate 8.  Just after they opened up the highway after a 3 hour closure.  36 degrees.  

WTF!!!  This is southern California!!!  Oh, and my water proof Aerostitch suit is no longer water proof.........

 
Ran this past my meteorologist friend:

"It’s a roll cloud. So probably an outflow boundary of some kind... along the edge of a pool of cold air dumped out by a storm... like a mini cold front."

He also confirmed it is of alien origin and should not be photographed.
Which isn't to say the straight line winds associated with this event wouldn't blow the OP out of his socks. 

So, OP, what happened? Non-event?

 
Which isn't to say the straight line winds associated with this event wouldn't blow the OP out of his socks. 

So, OP, what happened? Non-event?
Found an off ramp and MickeyD's. Super wet, left puddles everywhere. MickeyD employee brought a mop and cleaned up after me. Waited the storm out, about 50 minutes. One of the patrons, stereotypical midwest farmer and wife looked over and said 'You ain't from here, are yah boy?' :)

 
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