beyond the dogpark - a motorcycle tour

Welcome to the second of three performance review reports. This covers the June ÔÇÖ07 performance period and also gives trip-to-date summaries or averages as I may consider appropriate or convenient.

IÔÇÖll start again by recapping my goals:
1) ride one huge loop around North America;
2) run 360 miles and
3) raise $3,600 for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

Now to report on progress toward those goals and several other metrics.

RIDE ONE HUGE CIRCLE:
Last time I mentioned that success in this category would involve a route that does not return to itÔÇÖs origin by significantly repeating its ÔÇ£outwardÔÇØ path. As of June 30th, I can quite safely say that although IÔÇÖve begun the trip back southeast, I have repeated very little of my outward path. ItÔÇÖs too early to claim victory on this one, but I bet that IÔÇÖll do pretty well. And if not, IÔÇÖll gladly manipulate the facts until they fit my idea of a good story. Here is the output from my GPS for the trip so far (Late April through EOM June):



RUN 360 MILES:
This is a dicey category for sure. I am very pleased that last month I introduced the concept of the RME, or the Road Mile Equivalent. IÔÇÖm quite sure that IÔÇÖll need it. IÔÇÖll allow a small table to give status on this item



The infinite flexibility of the RME will certainly pick up any slack should I not happen to run 158 miles in July. So again, I predict success!

RAISE $3,600:
Thank you again!!!! . . .to those of you who have given gifts to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. Their goals are important to me as they perform research for cures to cancer and provide assistance to those affected. In memory of my father, I decided to support this organization and IÔÇÖm pleased that many of you have decided to show your support as well.

JuneÔÇÖs nine additional gifts contributed $900 to the total, our net values are now $4,065 across 26 gifts. Thanks again!! Clearly, more clicks are welcome - if interested, the link to the donation page is HERE

OTHER METRICS:
Total Motorcycle Miles:
May: 7,249
June: 5,370
Cumulative: 12,619

Average Miles per Gallon: 41.35
May: 41.35
June: 38.69 (decrease primarily attributed switch to to knobby tires)

States Visited (no double counting from prior period):
May: 16
June: 1

Provinces Visited (no double counting from prior period):
May: 1
June: 1

Weddings Attended:
May: 1
June: 0
Average: 0.5

Years Aged (as measured by birthdays)
May: 0
June: 1
Average: one half hear per month

Haircuts
May: 0
June: 1

Close-Calls with Buffalo:
May: 0
June: 0
July: 1 (projection)

Statdawg said:

Pub and road scouting trip begins July 6th for your northern leg into Eastern Canada. I am traveling with Motard, Redrider, Irishkev by early next week so there will be no bias opinion. Watch for Moose on the way to West Bend. I think they use them for a hamburger topping there. Oh it is illegal to order a salad in Wisconsin.

Click to expand...

This scouting business sounds it can only yield good results. Thanks! I'll be stoked for any inside line you've got!

No salad in WI. Check!

Hello now from Missoula Montana. This town has engaged me and IÔÇÖve decided to set some root here. Those roots will last no more than thirty six hours, but that is my longest run in one place sine Dawson City three weeks ago.

I pulled into town yesterday afternoon because the bike needed (big surprise) a new rear tire. From here to home, IÔÇÖm going with street tires as they last at least twice as long as the more-fun-but-less-efficient knobbies.

But to jump into the details of Montana would be to shortcut a few experiences since my earlier-this-month encounter with a couple massive buffalo. . .

After flinging dirt and fear at a dejected buffalo, I flung my way down to Dawson Creek where I enjoyed some much welcome sunshine and even went for a run of non-trivial distance. In confidence of the Super 8 desk attendee, I learned that the police activity I witnessed when in the same town weeks earlier was a response to a drug-related gun killing. I was glad to learn this detail after I had completed my runs, both prior and more recent.

My return to mile zero of the Alaska Highway represented ÔÇôfor me- the end of the ÔÇ£oh man, you are way out there!ÔÇØ part of my ride. From there on in, all things would be resourced and calculated, right? Perhaps.

I rode the next day to British ColumbiaÔÇÖs Jasper park. Jasper is at the north end of the Icefields Parkway which reaches southeast down to Banff, by way of Lake Louise. Wanting to allow ample time to enjoy these adjoining parks, I opted to stay overnight in Jasper. With very good weather, I set up my tent and headed out for a run. Funny ÔÇôhow even after a day of mind-cleansing riding- a run can really set everything right with the world. Great scenery doesnÔÇÖt hurt.

Ok time for a couple photos, first of the riverside trail, then that eveningÔÇÖs river. . .





The next day I made good on my plan to ride the parks. As many report, the scenery is exceptional. The mountains are dramatic and usher glaciers downward form icefields that are unseen from the road ÔÇô yet their cooling winds are felt. Parked at one moment, I could have sworn that a certain glacier has plans on encapsulating me and my bike. But realizing that it would take many centuries for the glacier to reach us, I acted ÔÇôin relation- like lightning when I pulled away forty-five minutes later.



Leaving the Jasper/Banff area, I headed south toward the US. Wait, on more photo from Banff. . .



Entering the lower 48, I headed directly for MissoulaÔÇÖs BMW shop. Having made plans to stay there (here), for the night, I became enamored with the town and decided to spend a ÔÇ£day in placeÔÇØ so that I could enjoy the townÔÇÖs amenities including highly-great running trails, lovely brewpubs and an opportunity to do a ÔÇ£star-wars volume 4ÔÇØ caliber clean-up of the bike.

Remember how in the very first released star wars, droids R2D2 and C3PO both received a good cleaning at some point mid-movie? It wasnÔÇÖt the thorough cleaning they got before the movieÔÇÖs end, but it was pretty darn good. ThatÔÇÖs the treatment my bike got earlier today, while I got a back-load of sunburn. In other words, all is well!!!!

Exceptional scenery indeed.
Go griff!

wezul said:

Exceptional scenery indeed.
Go griff!

Click to expand...

Hell yeah, I'm going!!!

Hello now from Murdo, South Dakota where a major thunder-ripper just swept through the area and IÔÇÖm happy to be indoors and have the bike covered. I have a bunch of photos and descriptions to share about the last two days of riding, but I first need to tell you about the events of yesterday (Sunday) evening.

Winding my way in the early evening along WyomingÔÇÖs route 14, I was nearing a nine thousand foot mountain pass when I came across several parked vehicles and a group of people gathered closely. There were several parked cars and *gulp* one motorcycle on its side. I had come across an accident scene.

I parked my bike and ran to the people. A man was lying on his back in a position that couldnÔÇÖt possibly be comfortable. Clearly he was not comfortable; he was hurt. But he was conscious and talking ÔÇô those were good signs.

ÔÇ£Has anyone called 911?ÔÇØ I asked. A woman told me that several cars had sped away in either direction, all with plans to call. ÔÇ£Are any of you trained for emergency care?ÔÇØ I asked next. No. Another gulp. ÔÇ£IÔÇÖm an EMTÔÇØ I said, much to the relief of the others. Their relief was understandable, yet my confidence was low. I have taken all the right training and passed all the right tests, yet IÔÇÖve never really put the training to use.

I kneeled before the injured man. ÔÇ£Hi, IÔÇÖm Paul. IÔÇÖm an EMT and IÔÇÖd like to help you. WhatÔÇÖs your name?ÔÇØ (This much I remembered from class). He responded. Kenneth knew where he was and he knew the date. He had a strong pulse and was breathing without difficulty.

A man at the scene mentioned that KennethÔÇÖs pulse had been much faster at first but now was about normal. That same man had checked for any major bleeding and had put a blanket on Kenneth. Kenneth complained about back, chest and leg pain. Happily, he was able to move his feet and hands and he sensed when his extremities were touched.

With an ambulance on the way, I felt there was little more we could do for Kenneth other than keep him warm and talking. And so we did.

An SUV pulled up and two real EMTs came forward. They had oxygen, a backboard and other equipment needed to prepare Kenneth for transport once an actual ambulance arrived. I helped by holding KennethÔÇÖs head straight relative to his body while others moved him enough to secure him to the backboard. (From EMT class, this is known as ÔÇ£taking c-spine,ÔÇØ or supporting the cervical spine so to help minimize potentially-paralyzing damage).

As the EMTs asked Kenneth about his medical history and the medications he regularly takes, I realized that should have asked these and other questions earlier and recorded the answers. What if Kenneth had lost consciousness before real help arrived?

Soon an ambulance arrived, Kenneth was loaded in and he was on his way to the hospital.


When all others had left the scene, I took a moment to look around. I saw how Kenneth had taken a right-handed curve too wide. He crossed the oncoming lane and hit the sand. The bike dug in and he went over top.

Others had picked his bike upright and it looked pretty good to me, all things considered. A wrecker was on its way to pick it up.

The sun was setting as I left the accident scene. Off to my right I saw an incredible cloud formation, a huge column of clouds illuminated like crazy by the sunÔÇÖs low rays. My thoughts were jumbled but the cloud formation provided an odd reality that helped me focus on what was happening in the moment rather than imagining different accident scenarios.

Night set in as I continued out of the mountains. Deer were out and free-range cattle were on the road, as were other motorists who wanted to travel more quickly than a shaken-up animal-shy motorcyclist. At one point a very large haul truck was following closely when I saw two cows directly in front of me. There was plenty of time to stop, but the circumstances of the evening were piling up to create a very unattractive package. I laughed nervously as the cows zig-zaged in front of me, trying to decide if they should exit the road to the right (over a guard rail, then down a steep decline) or to the left (up a similarly steep incline). Each cow chose a different path. The right-moving cow tried to jump the guard rail but didnÔÇÖt do so well. It took several efforts to get her hind legs over. Then there was then much crashing as she scurried down the hill. The left-moving cow scrambled upward, dislodging a few rocks that fell and scattered across the road. Meanwhile, the haul truck (with only one working headlight) waited impatiently while I stayed put, sort of shaking, sort of laughing, definitely wide-eyed and jaw-dropped.

Then came the lightning. Not over me, but away in the distance, at the foot of the mountains in the area of the town where I had planned to spend the night. The weather function on my satellite radio-enabled GPS flashed a weather warning. ÔÇ£Yes, I know. And cows too.ÔÇØ

At the base of the mountains I came across a hotel. It was seedy, dark and neglected. I was glad to be there. (Actually, I spoke to the owner and asked if his ÔÇ£WesternÔÇØ hotel was affiliated with the ÔÇ£Best WesternÔÇØ chain ÔÇô apparently it used to be but he lost the franchise. So now itÔÇÖs still Western but far from Best).

This morning I drove to the Sheridan Wyoming hospital. Kenneth was there and I was allowed to visit him in the ICU.

In his early 70ÔÇÖs, Kenneth had ridden his new Honda Goldwing from Washington State to attend a rally in Billings Montana. HeÔÇÖs owned other goldwings in the past but this larger model was new to him. He reported that it handles differently in the turns. Kenneth is educated in molecular biology and ÔÇôas a professor ÔÇô has taught others the same. I was amazed with how articulate he was, considering his experience. I didnÔÇÖt bother to tell Kenneth about the cloud, the cows, the truck and the lightning ÔÇô I figured that he had a few issues of his own to contend with.

As a trained-but-not-practiced EMT, I realize that there are significant gaps in my skills. As a motorcyclist, I am reminded of the risks we assume. But as a human being, IÔÇÖm glad that I did what I could to help. And most importantly, with a few broken bones and two damaged discs, IÔÇÖm glad that Kenneth will be fine.

griffin738 said:

Click to expand...

RE: " Your cloud looks more like a fire plume. I heard there were fires in that part. What do you think? "

Nonsense! Wildland fires are dangerous. I'm way to smart to ride near anything like that! But just to be safe, I'll avoid huge column-like mysterious clouds. . .

Leaving Missoula, I took to the interstate for a couple hundred miles to Bozeman, then dropped down to Yellowstone National Park. IÔÇÖve had the opportunity to visit the park in the past and while IÔÇÖm certain that I havenÔÇÖt experienced a half a percent of what the park has to offer, I was interested in making progress eastward so I merely dipped into the park so that I could exit to the east.



The mountains of northwest Wyoming are amazing to ride through. To make a comparison, the roads in the Jasper/Banff area pass near the mountains, along the relatively level (but winding) river. But in WyomingÔÇÖs Rockies, the roads pass right through the mountains, offering willing motorcyclists the opportunity to climb and descend. And turn. A lot. Given the right weather, itÔÇÖs a great playground.



The mountain passes in the area provide terrific views from 9,000-11,000 feet. It seems that I didnÔÇÖt take any good pass-view photos on this trip. Is it cheating for me to post one from five years ago? (Researching the rules of my travel post, I determine that no, it is not cheating ÔÇô besides, seeing a photo of Griffin is far more appealing than seeing yet another of me in my power ranger suit). Here is a shot of the worldÔÇÖs best dog at Bear Tooth Pass. . .



It was later this day that I rounded a corner and came across the accident scene. And leaving that scene I saw what at first appeared to this nervous biker to be a bizarre cloud formation. The prevailing consensus is that it was actually the rising smoke from a nearby wildland fire. So much for my previously-rock-solid ÔÇ£mystical sign from mother natureÔÇÖ theory.

After leaving the hospital the next morning, I again took to the interstate for a few hours and made my way to northwestern South Dakota to visit the Black Hills and the Badlands. Rounding one corner, I looked in my mirror to see George ÔÇ£PeekabooÔÇØ Washington lurking over my shoulder. I pulled over to re-create the angle.



Badlands National Park seems completely out of context with its surroundings. In the middle of an open and flat landscape, the Badlands present an eerie collection of jagged hills and spires. Pretty cool!





From the Badlands, I continued east. A mixture of highway and secondary road riding provided a mixture of fast-paced riding through mostly-flat grass and corn fields and slow-paced riding through mostly-flat grass and corn fields. I visited Sioux City for an oil change and went for a run that evening in which I took a bridge over the Missouri River into Nebraska. IÔÇÖll need to check the regulations of this thread, but IÔÇÖm pretty sure that visiting a state briefly by foot does indeed contribute to the states-visited metric.

Yesterday I rode through Iowa and to Madison Wisconsin. Later today IÔÇÖll ride an hour or so to West Bend where the BMW Motorcycle Owners Association annual rally is already underway. ItÔÇÖll be nice to be among 9,000 other riders for a few days!!

Leaving Missoula, I took to the interstate for a couple hundred miles to Bozeman, then dropped down to Yellowstone National Park. IÔÇÖve had the opportunity to visit the park in the past and while IÔÇÖm certain that I havenÔÇÖt experienced a half a percent of what the park has to offer, I was interested in making progress eastward so I merely dipped into the park so that I could exit to the east.



The mountains of northwest Wyoming are amazing to ride through. To make a comparison, the roads in the Jasper/Banff area pass near the mountains, along the relatively level (but winding) river. But in WyomingÔÇÖs Rockies, the roads pass right through the mountains, offering willing motorcyclists the opportunity to climb and descend. And turn. A lot. Given the right weather, itÔÇÖs a great playground.



The mountain passes in the area provide terrific views from 9,000-11,000 feet. It seems that I didnÔÇÖt take any good pass-view photos on this trip. Is it cheating for me to post one from five years ago? (Researching the rules of my travel post, I determine that no, it is not cheating ÔÇô besides, seeing a photo of Griffin is far more appealing than seeing yet another of me in my power ranger suit). Here is a shot of the worldÔÇÖs best dog at Bear Tooth Pass. . .



It was later this day that I rounded a corner and came across the accident scene. And leaving that scene I saw what at first appeared to this nervous biker to be a bizarre cloud formation. The prevailing consensus is that it was actually the rising smoke from a nearby wildland fire. So much for my previously-rock-solid ÔÇ£mystical sign from mother natureÔÇÖ theory.

After leaving the hospital the next morning, I again took to the interstate for a few hours and made my way to northwestern South Dakota to visit the Black Hills and the Badlands. Rounding one corner, I looked in my mirror to see George ÔÇ£PeekabooÔÇØ Washington lurking over my shoulder. I pulled over to re-create the angle.



Badlands National Park seems completely out of context with its surroundings. In the middle of an open and flat landscape, the Badlands present an eerie collection of jagged hills and spires. Pretty cool!





From the Badlands, I continued east. A mixture of highway and secondary road riding provided a mixture of fast-paced riding through mostly-flat grass and corn fields and slow-paced riding through mostly-flat grass and corn fields. I visited Sioux City for an oil change and went for a run that evening in which I took a bridge over the Missouri River into Nebraska. IÔÇÖll need to check the regulations of this thread, but IÔÇÖm pretty sure that visiting a state briefly by foot does indeed contribute to the states-visited metric.

Yesterday I rode through Iowa and to Madison Wisconsin. Later today IÔÇÖll ride an hour or so to West Bend where the BMW Motorcycle Owners Association annual rally is already underway. ItÔÇÖll be nice to be among 9,000 other riders for a few days!!

Riding among many other motorcyclists can be a high-volume affair. Supporting slogans such as ÔÇ£loud pipes save lives,ÔÇØ motorcycles ÔÇô especially in groups ÔÇô have been known to send people running with hands cupped over ears. BMW motorcycles present a notable exception. They run quietly; at full throttle a BMW typically sounds like a washing machine in its final spin cycle. (Interpret no implication that BMW bikes are underpowered as I am referring to an industrial sized washing machine ÔÇô one that could easily wash a blanket or half a dozen stuffed bears).

Approaching West Bend Wisconsin last Thursday, all must have noticed the progress of thousands of washing machines speeding toward a common location. It was the thirty-fifth BMW Motorcycle Owners Association (MOA) national rally. It was the second that I have attended.



A lot happens at a four-day motorcycle rally. Experts conduct seminars. Riders explore the region. Vendors pitch their products. Most importantly, friends meet.

I canÔÇÖt readily count the number of people I met up with. Several were familiar from my local BMW Bikers of Metropolitan Washington (BMWBMW) club. Others were previously known to me from the contributions theyÔÇÖve made to the MOA and/or the Adventure Rider (ADV Rider) forums. And of course new friends were made.



I was among thousands of people with specific interests in the exact activity IÔÇÖve enjoyed since late April. And IÔÇÖll admit that I did indulge a bit. This is an only-mildly-edited version of what I had to say to the ADV Rider group:

You get the idea.

I did manage to do a couple of constructive things at the rally. For one, I took the Motorcycle Safety FoundationÔÇÖs Experienced Rider Course. When later asked what I learned at the course that I havenÔÇÖt learned in prior years (and more specifically, in prior months), my answer is, ÔÇ£I learned that I can maneuver just fine, but IÔÇÖm really good at stopping.ÔÇØ Certain buffalo-related incidences excluded, this is consistent with my stand-still-until-the-danger-passes approach to most things. I also went for several runs, mostly in search of coffee.

I should have mentioned this in a prior post but I forgot. . . Somewhere up in British Columbia I broke the frame of my riding sunglasses and while in Missoula, I bought some more, and having recently heard that polarized lenses provide good light protection, I selected a polarized pair. Funny thing, when I first put the new glasses on, all was fine ÔÇô but when I lowered my helmetÔÇÖs face shield, a whole new world appeared before me. It seems that some property of the face shield interacts with the polarized lens such that certain sources of light (reflections from car windshields, bodies of water, some well-worn sections of the road) appear to have distorted colors. The distortion is dramatic at times. An oncoming windshield can appear as bright purple, then in an instant appear as orange, then perhaps neon green. It takes some getting used to, but the distortion does not impact oneÔÇÖs perception of depth or speed. So who cares if a silver car is suddenly hot pink? And then turquoise? Truth be told, IÔÇÖve overstated the impact here ÔÇô it is not the case that the entire world changes colors infinitely. It is the case that ÔÇÿpatchesÔÇÖ exhibit the condition, sort of like a grouping of ÔÇ£hot pixelsÔÇØ in a digital image.



Leaving the rally, I rode for several days with my friend Jim (a.k.a. ÔÇ£JimVonBadenÔÇØ on the forums). He and I had similar plans to loop up and around the great lakes on our routes back to Virginia. We both had grand images of what a place named Destruction Bay must look like ÔÇô surely it would be spectacular to see, a combination of treacherous rocks, unforgiving waves and the scattered remains of boats who took a chance.



From West Bend, Jim and I headed northwest at first, barely missing the western edge of Lake Superior. We passed through a bit of Minnesota, then into Ontario were Destruction Bay presented a stifled post-industrial downtown area. It did have a Laundromat, so we were pretty happy about that.

We passed along the northern shore of Lake Superior and enjoyed riding through winding, pine-lined roads and getting periodic views of the lake. The lake, by the way, was brilliant blue ÔÇô and through my miracle glasses, also lime green at times and sometimes also lavender.



After Lake Superior, we passed over Lake Huron and earlier today we parted ways, with Jim heading south to home and I making one last stop ÔÇôin New England- before I too return to the DC area.

It turns out that Jim and I rode and got along quite well together ÔÇô IÔÇÖm glad we made the trip together. Note also that Jim is very savvy with motorcycle mechanics ÔÇô so heÔÇÖs a good guy to have around for all kinds of reasons!



Heading eastward toward Ottawa, I continued east along the Trans-Canada Highway. At one point, I found myself riding with much spirit along with two Harley Davidson riders. A moment later, the three of us were parked on the side of the road, having been flagged down by a policeman. He seems to be of the belief that I was traveling 141 km/hr in a 90 km/hr zone. I refuse to believe such nonsense as that is the hallmark of someone far less responsible than I. It seems that IÔÇÖve been invited back to Ontario next month. There seems to be no ÔÇ£decline with regretsÔÇØ option on the RSVP card. . .

Hello now from Jericho Vermont, between Burlington and Stowe. IÔÇÖm at the home of my longest-running friend Chip and his family ÔÇô wife Janice and daughters Anna (shmooper) and Katie (bug). We have been doing our best to enjoy todayÔÇÖs fine weather and the wonderful assortment of microbrews that are the pride of certain Vermonters.

On my way into town I rode (through much rain) past the Champlain Valley Exposition Grounds, the home of last yearsÔÇÖ BMW MOA rally. It would appear that all riders have by now successfully left the fair grounds. I just wanted to make sure.

Tomorrow I will start on the final push towards home. And there are many good reasons to return home. I will write more later about most of those, but for now I will mention that I need to limber up musically for a performance next Saturday, July 28th. My most excellent rock band ÔÇôRival Tribe- will take the stage at Springfield VirginiaÔÇÖs JAXX night club, self-described as ÔÇ£DCÔÇÖs Euro Metal HomeÔÇØ (whatever that is). As part of a day-long event, we are scheduled to play at 9PM, but these things have a tendency to change. I am 100% excited to play with my bandmates again and to play for those who might appreciate such things. And after three months on the road, I really ought to practice soon. . .



Understood that most readers here are not candidates to visit JAXX as they (you) live elsewhere or donÔÇÖt necessarily gravitate to Euro Metal, but for those who do attend, IÔÇÖll be happy to buy you a drink if you identify yourself with either a BMW motorcycle shirt or a hashing shirt of some variety.

There are many band-related jokes, but my favorite applies to me ÔÇô and I intend to demonstrate its accuracy next weekend. . .
Q: What do you call a person who hangs out with musicians?
A: The bass player.

And since the topic of music is at hand, IÔÇÖll also include the lyrics to the (incomplete) song I wrote over the past couple months. Called ÔÇ£Right of Way,ÔÇØ it reflects my propensity to yield to most any object larger or more menacing than I. . .


Okay, enough of faux-creativity, time to enjoy my time with friends. . .

Hmmm, itÔÇÖs August 14 and IÔÇÖve been home for three weeks. IÔÇÖve meant to write before now; ÔÇÿregular lifeÔÇÖ has been consuming. So IÔÇÖll give a shot now at wrapping up the trip report and providing the third of three performance reports. After this post, IÔÇÖll likely write on two more topics: 1) a reflection about what the trip has meant to me, and 2) one or more gear reports about what I brought what I bought what I used and what I left behind.

I woke up at ChipÔÇÖs home in Jericho Vermont on Sunday, July 22 and packed the bike (by then knick-named ÔÇ£beauty queenÔÇØ) for the final push home. Inside the house, the gang was watching the Tour de France ÔÇô it was too good to miss, especially with that dayÔÇÖs controversy over steroid use by the tour leader. 11:00 AM rolled around and it was time to head south. As IÔÇÖve done a half dozen times before, I started off on the backroads, enjoying New EnglandÔÇÖs winding green landscape.

Also as on other occasions, it occurred to me that if I were to hop on the highway, I could sleep in my own bed that night. It had been eighty six days since IÔÇÖd even seen my town, let alone slept in my own bed. I pulled on the throttle. Then I reflected on my recent encounter with OntarioÔÇÖs law enforcement community (henceforth referred to as ÔÇ£my little international legal matterÔÇØ) and I relaxed my grip. As I thought more about home, the reading on the speedometer climbed again.

I arrived home in the late evening and was glad to return in the anonymity of darkness. I was ready to be home but I wasnÔÇÖt quite ready for home to know that I was there. A few days of hiding out would be in order.

Dark or not, Griffin recognized me immediately. IÔÇÖve never seen him so excited! I knelt to greet him, but he ran laps through the yard and driveway. Endlessly he ran laps. ÔÇ£IÔÇÖm over here Griff!ÔÇØ He ran more, forever, everywhere. I do believe that no being is as honest and transparent with their feelings as a dog. Griffin made me feel quite welcome indeed.

And so, in brief, I am home. And itÔÇÖs good to be here. As mentioned, I have more to say, but noting as important now as ÔÇ£thank you.ÔÇØ Thank you those who supported my trip and my goals. A list of ÔÇÿthank yousÔÇØ would doubtlessly start with my family ÔÇô my mother, my brother Doug and my sister Cindy ÔÇô each of whom realizes that Paul must now and then go on crazy missions. I thank those who contributed to the Dana-Farber Institute and helped to beat our goal. I thank the people I met up with while traveling ÔÇô without doubt, travelers place their happiness and well-being in the hands of each other ÔÇô and together we make it through quite well. I thank my friends for being the same pack of goons I left behind. I thank those at my workplace who respected my travel interests and welcomed me back. I thank those in my local club who helped my prep my bike and who taught me to not fear the wrench or the soldering iron. Quite importantly, I thank anyone who was in touch with me while I was gone ÔÇô you all gave me a very much needed sense of community, at times when I was light years from anything familiar. And of course I thank Griffin who has always been an unconditional dearest friend.




PERFORMANCE REPORT THREE OF THREE

This report covers the July ÔÇÖ07 performance period and also gives trip-in-total statistics as I may consider them to be relevant, humorous or self-serving.

Again, IÔÇÖll recap my goals:
1) ride one huge loop around North America;
2) run 360 miles and
3) raise $3,600 for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

RIDE ONE HUGE CIRCLE:
Success in this category involves a route that does not return to itÔÇÖs origin by significantly repeating its ÔÇ£outwardÔÇØ path. I will admit that the return trip through northwest Canada involves a bit of redundancy through the southern Yukon and northern British Columbia. I assign responsibility for this ÔÇÿoverlapÔÇÖ entirely to mother nature. With good ÔÇôno, outstanding- intentions of riding the Stewart Cassiar Highway (a north/south route in western BC, an alternative a part of the Alaska Highway), I was thwarted first by mudslides in Terrace BC on the way up, then by heavy rains south of Watson Lake YK on the way back. Accepting that this part of the route was twice diverted by a power greater than I, I claim enormous success in the One Huge Circle category. GPS output for the entire trip below:



RUN 360 MILES:
In evaluating this metric, it will be helpful (to me) to recall the RME, or the Road Mile Equivalent. As previously discussed, this is a proprietary measurement that normalizes energy spent doing various things against the amount of energy required for me to run a mile under certain conditions that appeal to me. My running goal for this trip was 360 miles. Conveniently, I ran precisely 360 RMEs. For those of you concerned with trivial statistics such as actual miles run, the figure is approximately 319. Again, I claim undeniable victory in this category.



RAISE $3,600:
The mission of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute is important to me as they perform research for cures to cancer and provide assistance to those affected. In memory of my father, I decided to support this organization and IÔÇÖm pleased that many of you have decided to show your support as well.

In my mind, this is where I did nothing and you all have earned big boasting rights. With a goal of $3,600 in mind, 28 of you contributed $4,295. Thank you! And thank yourselves!

If interested, it is not too late to contribute to this worthwhile organization.
The link to the donation page is HERE


OTHER METRICS:
Total Motorcycle Miles:
May: 7,249
June: 5,370
July: 6,394
Cumulative: 19,013

Average Miles per Gallon: 39.76
May: 41.35
June: 38.69 (decrease primarily attributed switch to to knobby tires)
July: 39.07 (knobby tires for most of this period)

Tires Used: 6.7, consider the following. . .
IF Tires Installed:
May: 4 (started with new Tourance (street) tires, replaced both with TKC (dirt/knobby) at the end of May
June: 3 (new rear TKC early in month, new front and rear TKC late in May)
July: 1 (new rear Tourance early in month)
- - - - - - -
THEN Tires Used = (tires installed) ÔÇô ( 1 * % of front tire tread remaining) ÔÇô ( 1 * % of rear tire tread remaining)
Tires Used = (8 tires installed) ÔÇô ( 1 * 60% of front tire tread remaining) ÔÇô ( 1 * 70% of rear tire tread remaining)
Tires Used = (8) ÔÇô ( 0.60) ÔÇô ( 0.70)
Tires Used = 8 ÔÇô 1.3
Tires Used = 6.7

States Visited (no double counting from prior period): 27
May: 16 (VA SC, NC, TN, AL, MI, LA, TX, NM, AZ, UT, NV, CA, ID, MO, ID)
June: 1 (AK)
July: 10 (WY, SD, IO, NE, WI, MN, NY, VT, NY, PA)

Non-Contiguous US Places Visited Even If ItÔÇÖs Not Cool To Group Them (no double counting from prior period): 6
May: 2 (BVI, PR)
June: 2 (BC, YK)
July: 2 (AB, ON)

Weddings Attended:
May: 1
June: 0
July: .025
Average: 0.3417

Years Aged (as measured by birthdays)
May: 0
June: 0
July: 1
Average: 0.33 years per month (dog year rules apply)

Tattoos that say ÔÇ£bubbaÔÇØ: 0 (phew!)

Tattoos that say something else: 0 (boring!)

Stupid Nights Drinking With Chip, Jim or the ADVRider Crew:
May: 0
June: 0
July: 10 *hick*

BeerTeam said:

Great narrative and excellent photos​

Click to expand...

I agree! Wonderful. Thanks for resurrecting this thread BeerTeam!

JD