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The Canadian Caper - Turning my New VFR into a Real Adventure *Final Installment*


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Thanks for most excellent report!

Enjoying it a lot :fing02:

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It is always encouraging to log in and read the responses to my thread. I still have quite a few photos and tales from the trip to relate, and will continue to update this thread on a regular basis until the full story has been shared. It always takes some time to go through photos and get everything organized after a trip like this.

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As the skies started to lighten I woke up and lay in the sleeping bag aware that the air had a chill to it. I was awake but not in a big hurry to leave what warmth the tent provided. Eventually I left the tent to visit the facilities. Like most campgrounds I had encountered in the states the wash house was a small concrete building with a row of toilets and a couple of sinks, but no shower facilities. Nothing fancy. It was a little warmer than outside, but not by much.

Before taking down the tent I took out the camera.

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This is how I usually travel. This tent is palatial in comparison to the one that I had with me on my first trip in 2009. North Face markets the Bullfrog as a two person tent, and it has plenty of room inside for me plus gear. It is intended for backpacking so is lightweight and compact, ideal for the bike.

This particular tent is very easy to set up, taking only three tent poles, and minimum of two stakes. Most of the time I don't bother staking down the sides of the fly, it stretches out nicely over the frame and attaches at the base of the tent poles so it is not completely necessary. The front of the fly, however, is a different story. It needs to be stretched forward and anchored in two locations to provide a vestibule. Unfortunately not everywhere that I camp has ground that is conducive to pushing in a stake, even with a handy rock. This was the case the previous evening. My solution was simple – I grabbed one of the straps from my bike luggage and looped it around the leg of the picnic table, and attached the tent fly tie downs to that. It provided enough tension to pull the tent vestibule forward. There is always a handy tree, table or motorcycle to attach the tent to, no matter where I pitch the tent.

My approach to bike camping is very spartan. I dry camp. All I pack with me is a tent, a sleeping bag, a small ground sheet and a sleeping pad. Obviously the sleeping bag is fairly compact, but I am pragmatic enough to wear extra clothing to make up for any chill in the air. Even my motorcycle gear will provide double duty as an extra blanket if needed. The sleeping bag, tarp and sleeping pad all fit inside my luggage. The tent is a little too long due to tent poles, so I strap it on the bike.

I have had enough opportunities to pitch and repack the tent that I have it down to a fairly fast process in the morning. Leaving my saddlebags on the bike so I didn't have to hassle with the seat proved to be a real timesaver as well. I figure that in a campground at night nobody is likely to bother my bike or the contents of my luggage. Besides, I generally roll in late and night and leave before most people are up in the morning, so it provides little temptation.

After I packed up the bike I walked down to the lake. It was very picturesque with the rising sun illuminating the mist rising from the water. The campground was quiet enough that the waterside was very peaceful, with only one boat in the distance. I almost had the lake to myself.

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I crave my solitude, and prefer to be alone in nature. I sat by the lake for the while until the sounds of a waking family in a nearby camper broke the peaceful spell. I returned to my bike and headed north through the park like setting.

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The road ahead – entering Kentucky. In this shot you can clearly see my Manual GPS.

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The road was narrow and lined with trees. At this hour there wasn't a lot of traffic, but there were a lot of curious deer checking it out. I slowed back to a more scenic pace and kept a keen eye on the side of the road. So far on the trip I hadn't seen a lot of deer – this was beginning to remind me of the wildlife I frequently encounter closer to home.

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I continued riding through Kentucky. Finally I reached the I24, and followed the exit ramp. As the road below came into view I realized that the exit left a great deal to be desired. The road ahead was under construction. There were two lanes traveling my direction, however one of them was closed. The other was easily accessible over a ridge of pavement. A high square edged ridge of pavement, that looked to be enough of a abrupt rise from the other lane to take out a merging bike. I opted not to merge on normally, and headed towards the end of the merge area looking for a safe spot to stop. Checking carefully for traffic behind me, I slowed the bike, and set myself almost at right angles to the road. I stopped and watched traffic. A string of cars and semis continued to flow past, and I started wondering if a wide enough gap would provide itself. Finally I had room – I took the bike straight forward and up over the high ridge of pavement at right angles to the road, and then turned sharply to my right, pulling up to speed. Feeling the bike climb up over the sharp high ridge told me that I had made the right decision to sit and watch traffic for a while.

I traveled down the Interstate for a while, and then followed a promising exit to feed both myself and the bike. After topping off the gas, I found a cup of coffee and a bite to eat at Waffle House. It was fairly quiet, and I requested my usual seat. “Could I please have a table with a view of en electrical outlet?”. It was time to recharge my cell phone and I have found that most restaurants are very obliging of this sort of request. The Waffle House staff were no different, and pulled a jukebox out slightly from the wall to provide access to an outlet.

I sat down and poured over maps, figuring out the next part of my agenda. The Ozarks. That sounded quite promising. My route would follow the I24 for a short while, before crossing the Mississippi at Cairo, heading from Kentucky into Missouri. At least this was the plan.

After finishing off a coffee refill, I got back on the bike and headed along my planned route. I passed a sign “Welcome to Illinois.”

Illinois?

I wasn't planning on riding north into Illinois. It must have taken the wrong left hand turn at Albuquerque! I followed the road to an exit for Metropolis, and pulled into a rest area to check out the map. Indeed, a bit of backtracking was now in order.

Heading out I noticed a sign for Metropolis inviting visitors to drop in to see their claim to fame, the world's largest Superman Statue. Bemused, I decided to take a small detour, after all I was already there. It wasn't far to Metropolis from the interstate, and signs were very clear providing directions to find Superman. I rode through the small center passing roads with whimsical names like “Lois Lane”. The morning was quiet enough to provide optimum parking for a few photos.

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The town square featured shady characters skulking around the buildings.

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Superman was a tourist attraction. There were museums, and stores. The center square was complete with life sized wooden cutouts providing typical touristy photo opportunities.

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The last I saw him, Superman was taking off from the Daily Planet.

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It was time for me to take off as well, so I backtracked finding my exit leading towards Cairo with ease, crossing the Mississippi in short order.

I continued riding through Missouri, exploring some of the smaller roads. I find that the States are great for riding options, near any major throughfare there are curvier two lane options that provide better options.

For most of the day I left the camera in the tank bag. It was getting quite dark by the time I reached Doniphan, but there were no opportunities to set up camp. I continued down towards Mammoth Spring. I took the 142. It is a beautiful road for riding, although I can't say that I recommend it at night. There was a lot of wildlife, some of it thoughtfully laying dead on the road providing double duty as speed bumps courtesy of vehicles that had traveled the route ahead of me. There was also a lot of curious wildlife along the side of the road. To add to the fun, the road had a lot of curves – some of them tight enough that my headlights would only illuminate part of the curve, and a lot of the country beside the road as I traveled around. Always fun when you can't look around the curve you are traveling.

As if this wasn't entertaining enough, the road was quite hilly, with a lot of elevation changes. Rather than flatten out the ground, when they paved this road they followed the line of the land, up and down over a series of small hills. The road resembled a sine wave. My headlights proved not quite up to the challenge, with dark inky pools on the road lighting up at the last moment as my bike traveled the undulating hills. There were a few surprises to be found at the last minute as the headlights reached into the gloom at the last moment. I adjusted my pace and reminded myself to relax. The road seemed a lot longer than the advertised 50 miles.

I finally reached Mammoth Spring, and started looking for the campground. I stopped at a local gas station for directions, and followed them... noticing the sign for the campground right after I passed it on the way out of town. I continued down the road until I found a good place to backtrack and once again retraced my steps. Turning into the campground, the road immediately dropped down a steep hill towards the river. Towards the bottom of the hill the pavement gave way to large rocks and a sharpish turn. I successfully navigated this, ignored the stop sign that advised all vehicles must pay before proceeding and pulled into the first available campsite. Getting off the bike, I walked back to the registration station and dropped my camping fee in the box.

I started to set up my tent and noticed a large sign marked “reserved” on the site I had selected, so I moved to the next available site. Moving the tent was a lot easier than moving the bike. It didn't look like turning the bike around the next morning would be a lot of fun given the unstable footing.

As I finished setting up the tent a freight train passed by less than 15 feet away from my campsite. My tent was pitched right between the river and the railway tracks.

After I had the tent set up I looked around the small campground. It was quiet, and my tent was the only one in sight. Across from me a small truck and trailer were parked, and a yellow light peeked out through curtains. It looked like we were the only two occupied sites. Since the campground facilities included a bathroom with a shower I took advantage of this before heading into the tent for the night.

Crawling into the tent I settled myself in my sleeping bag as another freight train rumbled past sounding a mournful whistle as it passed out of town. I dozed off and woke up to the sound of yet another train rumbling past. And then another one. I lost track of how many trains went past that night, but I was close enough to the tracks that I woke to each and every one, catching short naps through the night.

It had been a long day, running through five states – Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas.

Stay tuned for the next installment as I head through the Ozarks.

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and a sleeping pad.

:cheerleader: WAHEY!!!!! Olive has stepped into modern camping!!! :cheerleader:

Good thing there are no "award" emoticons on this site.... :biggrin:

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A few years ago I had a Valkyrie and our national rendezvous that year was in Paducah, KY. We rode a Valk march into Metropolis with several hundred bikes and spent a day downtown taking in the Superman atmosphere. Thanks for the memories.

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As yet another train went rumbling past. I gave up on horizontal, crawled out of the tent and started to repack the bike. It was a good time to pull out the camera and take a few photos.

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As I stood there with the camera a train rolled past. The picnic tables in the foreground are campsites just across the “road” from mine. Apparently even the camera was a little bleary-eyed at this hour after waking to freight trains running past all night.

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The river bordered the other side of the narrow campground.

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After the bike was packed up, I walked over and took a look at the deep gravel heading on the turn before the hill judging the best angle to take the bike through it. The gravel felt very unstable as it shifted under my feet. I don't ride often enough on gravel to feel comfortable riding on it. I started up the bike, carefully turned it around and took my planned line out of the campground relieved when I reached the paved section where my confidence returned.

I headed back to Missouri for breakfast, stopping in a McDonalds. In a lot of restaurants it is not unusual to see a morning gathering of locals. This was no exception. The seniors had gotten together for an early coffee. My gear caught their attention and I shared in a short conversation as I drank my coffee. I fielded the usual questions of where I was heading. The response of Calgary, Alberta, Canada usually catches a few raised eyebrows, especially as people try to figure out just where Calgary is. Responses to that seem split between the incredulous response of “alone?” or “on a motorcycle?”. Of course, the answer to both is a simple “Yes.”. I think that part of the response I get from people is the fact that I am female.

There are some places in the states where that raises more eyebrows than others. I recall one campground near Salt Lake City last year where I almost had to argue with the clerk to check in. I smile in memory of it. She handed back the registration form and asked me to please complete it in full, explaining that she needed the names of all people staying at the campsite. When I clarified that it was just me, she asked me where my husband was. I explained that I was single and travelling alone. At this point she asked me who was driving the bike? Apparently the idea of a single woman riding her own bike caused a bit of difficulty. This amused me greatly at the time. Although it is something I have encountered a few times in the oddest places.

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After a brief visit with some of the locals, I headed outside to the bike. Right across from my parking spot was an old railway car. The sign clearly identified it as tourist information and a railway museum. The idea of the mini museum amused me, but it wasn't open at this hour of the morning.

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Flowers growing beside it in a carefully cultivated garden underscored the climate differences between home and my chosen riding territory. Killing frosts had already taken care of all flowering plants at home, yet here the leaves were barely even hinting at changing.

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The highway curved away in the distance.

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The road heading for the Ozarks lay ahead. I swung my leg over the bike and started the day's ride. I had a few recommendations on routing including the “must travel” route of Push Mountain.

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As I headed towards Push Mountain I stopped for gas. At times it feels like I have traveled back through time when I stop at a small town gas stop. This one had ancient pumps, and didn't even have a name posted on the building.

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The scenery around the station

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I found the turn for Push Mountain, and headed down the road past a local outbreak of construction which cleared up quickly giving way to pavement in great condition. Lots of great curves and more fantastic scenery greeted me. I had the road to myself. I stopped for a brief break, and was visited by this curious butterfly.

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Another brief break on Push Mountain introduced another visitor winging in the sky high above.

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As I was approaching the junction at the end of Push Mountain I got caught behind a logging truck. He was moving quite slowly and was challenged by the curves, spending a lot of time driving on the wrong side of the road. I took my time and waited for a non-existent opportunity to safely pass him. On occasion I stopped at the side of the road and waited for a while, only to overtake him again a few minutes later. The worst was a curvy uphill grade where he was travelling at bull low. I wound up in first gear riding the clutch. Not at all fun, and not a safe spot to pull over and stop either. Finally I had an opportunity to pass, and I left him far behind.

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It was time for another short break. Sitting outside a gas station I noticed another plastic zip lock bag hanging from the top of a door frame. I had noticed one earlier in the day as well. This one had a couple of pennies sitting at the bottom of it. Curious, I walked into the store and asked.

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This was a local approach to repel flies. The simple explanation was that the water refracts light and confuses the flies, causing them to go elsewhere.

Some of the signage for small corner stores amuses me. Gas stations with a statue of a giant cow parked outside, or a hapless couple canoeing through the trees.

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More curves lay ahead, as I rode through roads that were evidently popular with bikers. This was most obvious as I entered a real Motorcycle Mecca. The sign welcoming visitors to town acknowledged bikers. I found this odd. I passed a few motels and inns with small motorcycle friendly signs proudly posted. One proclaimed that it was biker owned and run for bikers – that only bikers were welcome. Certainly a different approach to business. When I stopped to fill the gas tank I took the opportunity to take pictures of a few of the welcoming signs directed at bikers. Of course, a few were also directed at those passing by who had an impulsive urge to get married.

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Leaving town I rode through more wonderful roads. On occasion I got caught behind traffic, and had to inch my way around hairpin curves until opportunity to pass presented itself. All too soon the curves gave way to straightaways. The sun was casting long shadows as it began to set, so I started actively looking for a place to pitch the tent for the night.

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There seemed little opportunity until I reached a small town. A Motel had a large area at the back for R.V.s so I stopped in to enquire. Unfortunately they did not allow tents. The owner tried to interest me in a room, but I demurred explaining that my budget was suited only for a tent site. We talked for a few minutes, and he was genuinely interested in my trip – especially with the length of it. Scratching his head, he told me that there were very few opportunities to camp anywhere near the area, and made me an offer that I couldn't refuse. A motel room for the same cost that a tent site would cost me. That night my tent remained strapped onto the bike as I enjoyed a shower and larger than planned accommodations.

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Stay tuned as I head for Kansas and a meet up with a VFRD local.

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After I packed up the bike I walked down to the lake. It was very picturesque with the rising sun illuminating the mist rising from the water. The campground was quiet enough that the waterside was very peaceful, with only one boat in the distance. I almost had the lake to myself.

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Olive,

The above photo is fantastic. Great job. Your ride report is making me miss my VFR all the more, but I'll forgive you for that. :)

David

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Olive, loving the write-up and the photos.

Good stuff, love your attention to detail!

Thanks for sharing.

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The next morning I woke up in a comfortable motel room. I got prepared for the day, and repacked the saddle bags. It didn’t take long until I was on the road again.

The scenery at the side of the road was a lot of brush, on roads with few curves. I elected to take small side roads whenever possible, and they were in good condition. At least when they were paved.

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On occasion a nicely paved road would reach an intersection with gravel. The paved option frequently turned away from the direction I intended to travel, leaving me with the option of a detour, or taking the gravel. Most of the time I detoured.

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As I headed into Kansas the roads flattened out and stretched for the horizon. Not many curves. Not a lot of scenery beyond the fields. And not a lot of places to pull off the side of the road. I replaced my earplugs with an Ipod. The music helped to keep me awake and a little more alert to the roads around me.

It amazes me how quickly mountains and curves give ways to flat prairie.

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I expected to find some less interesting roads on this part of the trip, but sometimes what was found on the roadside made up for it. A lot of small schoolhouses dotted the sides of the roads. Most had been converted to community halls or buildings with a new use, and most were identified as historic resources by signage.

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Continuing on through Kansas, I looked at the map and keeping in mind an invite from Lee2002. He had provided me some routing suggestions and had expressed interest in riding with me when I passed through his neck of the woods. So I dropped him an email. A little later on that day we connected by phone, and agreed to ride the following morning. After a short conversation I found myself headed to stay overnight with his family, rather than pitching a tent.

I was in Osage City, and took the opportunity for a few more photos. Typical small town USA boasted a main street with historic buildings and railway tracks passing through.

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Rocking Parrot Antiques amused me, given that I had left three parrots behind in the care of a friend when I had departed on my trip.

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When I had made plans to meet up with Lee2002 the idea was to meet up on the road. I was going to head towards him up the 56 on a specified route, and he would head the opposite way, with the intent of meeting up in the middle. It didn’t take me long to get moving, and I kept an eye out for a VFR heading the opposite direction. I rode for quite a while, and by the time I reached the I70 at Topeka it was pretty clear that we had somehow missed each other.

A quick exchange revealed that he had taken a short cut trying to make up some time, and hadn’t expected me to be quite as quick. I don’t waste a lot of time when riding. He was about a half hour south of me. I hung out at the side of the road with the crickets. I pulled off the road into the parking lot and stretched my legs.

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I watched a lot of cars go past...

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Water towers painted with town names were a staple of the mid-US. The distant view was a reminder that you were approaching a town.

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Some daisies grew wild at the side of the road.

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Another biker pulled off to make sure that I was OK, and we had a brief conversation. Finally the now familiar sound of a V4 approached, and I finally met up with Lee2002. We left the crickets behind, and I topped up my gas tank to save time the next morning and headed into Topeka.

It is always a bit of a strange feeling being welcomed into the house of someone that you have literally just met. What incredible hospitality! Parking the bike in the garage, we were met by Mrs.Lee2002 and his youngest daughter. A very nice family – his wife is quite a neat lady. A little while later the older daughter came home from a basketball game. Lee2002 tried to contact a few of his regular riding mates, but it proved too late of notice for them to join us.

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That IS flat country...................................... :biggrin:

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It amazes me how quickly mountains and curves give ways to flat prairie.

That works both ways :fing02:

Loving the story of your adventure... Will be said once it ends because than we'll all have to go back to reading about BR doing maintenance :laughing6-hehe:

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I'd say calander worthy.. :beer:

After this O ya may wanna consider posting a couple of your previous non adventureous trips............is that even a possibility :biggrin:

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Aussie, in all the time you have known me have I EVER had a non-adventurous trip of any type? :comp13:

If there was interest I could post up about the 10,000 km swing down the coast I took earlier this summer. Only problem it was on the OTHER bike. :blush:

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Aussie, in all the time you have known me have I EVER had a non-adventurous trip of any type? :comp13:

If there was interest I could post up about the 10,000 km swing down the coast I took earlier this summer. Only problem it was on the OTHER bike. :blush:

Yer right, you didn't have a "real" bike on that ride did you :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :tongue: :tongue:

I'm sure everyone here would LOVE to see that one O.... just post pix of the real bikes that were there and it'll be ok :laughing6-hehe:

And while yer at it post the year before too :fing02:

Enlighten these peeps on VFRD just how much you are one of the best die hard riders I have ever met and with a talent for writing the best reports on your adventures i have seen. To me you are the Melvis of reports :fing02: That guy can do a race report like no one else IMO :biggrin:

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Aussie, in all the time you have known me have I EVER had a non-adventurous trip of any type? :comp13:

If there was interest I could post up about the 10,000 km swing down the coast I took earlier this summer. Only problem it was on the OTHER bike. :blush:

10,000km earlier this summer and now a trip damn near across the whole US back home to Calgary to break in the new bike?

Hummm, dumb question but who do you work for and are they looking for people? Has to be some thing good so you can get that kind of time off work. I do 10,000km a year on my VFR just because I ride it ot work all summer and have a 300km a day round trip. But its all slab :dry:

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Hummm, dumb question but who do you work for and are they looking for people?

Caveat Emptor....................... :biggrin:

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Aussie, in all the time you have known me have I EVER had a non-adventurous trip of any type? :comp13:

If there was interest I could post up about the 10,000 km swing down the coast I took earlier this summer. Only problem it was on the OTHER bike. :blush:

Yer right, you didn't have a "real" bike on that ride did you :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :tongue: :tongue:

I'm sure everyone here would LOVE to see that one O.... just post pix of the real bikes that were there and it'll be ok :laughing6-hehe:

And while yer at it post the year before too :fing02:

Enlighten these peeps on VFRD just how much you are one of the best die hard riders I have ever met and with a talent for writing the best reports on your adventures i have seen. To me you are the Melvis of reports :fing02: That guy can do a race report like no one else IMO :biggrin:

GREAT WRITE-UP and PICS Olive, like always.... :fing02: .....and cruz, amazin' how much more entertainin' these Threads are since You learned to read, huh....easier to figure out the pictures now too, huh... :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe:

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The next morning, MrsLee2002 plied us with breakfast before we headed out to check out the “best roads in Kansas”. Lee2002’s daughters were also up, and the eldest proved herself an adept photographer.

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We headed out with Lee2002 in the lead. He was right, there ARE some curves in Kansas. It's always a good thing when a local shows you the sights.

Our first stop of the day was a pulloff. You could see for miles in every direction, the wind rippling the grass like waves on the ocean.

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Obviously used for loading cattle. There are a lot of ranches in this area.

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We continued on to a popular tourist stop in Wamego - the Dutch Mill. This mill was built in the 1870s by a dutch immigrant. In 1924 it was carefully dismantled, moved by horse drawn wagon and reconstructed where it stands today in the city park as part of a recreated historical prairie town. The mill still functions today when the building is opened for special occasions.

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Some of the other historical buildings were situated around a small railway that ran through the park. They were also authentic and had been relocated to this central location.

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A log cabin complete with moose.

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The park provided quite a few photo opportunities including these ducks having a lazy morning underneath the trees. The gnarled roots of the trees almost resembled gnomes giving a bit of an unworldly appearance to this corner of the pond.

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Quite a few statues graced the park. One of them was graced by a winged visitor.

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A fountain that had stood overlooking the park for decades.

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VFRs parked at the other side of the pond.

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We continued into downtown Wamego which featured an "Oz" theme. (If you go to Kansas, you might as well visit Oz... thankfully the tornado is optional).

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A few doors down from the Oz Museum was Toto's Tacos. Dorothy looks like she has seen quite a few years in this window... making a huge contrast with the bright warm welcoming colours of the restaurant's walls. We just took some photos of the exterior. At this hour in the morning nothing was open yet, and we had a few more miles to ride.

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Another notable building was the Columbian Theater dating back to 1893.

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As we were leaving town quite a few bikes were gathering in town for a charity ride of some description. We saw a number of other riders when we were out on the road as well.

Clicking our heels together and leaving the land of Oz behind, we headed for our final stop. Lee 2002 and myself parted ways in Manhattan. We had a brief visit before I continued on my journey. He has an interesting philosophy with his daughters. He wants them to experience as much of the world as possible, and tries to do so by inviting the world to his home. Earlier in the year he arranged a ride with a visiting VFRD member from India, going as far as to round up a bike and gear. Apparently Canada qualifies as reasonably foreign.

It was absolutely fantastic to be shown the sights by Lee2002. Not only did he route me on interesting roads, but also helped me set up some great photo opportunities. It is people like Lee2002 and his family that will stand out in my mind when I think back to this adventure. (Thanks again for the fantastic hospitality Lee2002!)

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My philosophy of riding is simple - if there are two lane roads available, why bother with the four lane variety? The smaller roads can be a lot more interesting. I encountered quite a few graveyards at crossroads. Here you have your options of route 15, 9, 148 or visiting the dearly departed.

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Continuing north into Nebraska, I sought out smaller roads. I discovered, however, Nebraska has a very interesting approach to secondary roads. The road is nicely paved for quite some distance, and then without any warning at all the road surface turns to gravel on top of asphalt. A thin coating of oil and a lot of small gravel that moves under the bike. Not exactly my favourite riding territory.

I also discovered that quite a few of the gas stations in Nebraska on secondary routes were closed... never a good sign. A small town with a gas station turned up before the situation turned desperate. With the bike parked at the pumps, I stretched my legs and shot a few photos.

For some reason this town decided on a brick main street. (It certainly wasn't the yellow brick road, as I had left that behind in Kansas... at least I *think* I did. Next time I pass through that state I will have to keep an eye peeled for it).

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Small town USA is graced with a lot of historic buildings that have been repurposed. I'm not entire sure exactly what this business had to offer. But the building set off against the stunning sky cried out for a photo.

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Returning to my bike I discovered that I had a wee problem. Actually a lot of wee problems. They were all striped yellow and black. Wasps. Very small wasps, but unmistakable. They had discovered the buffet of dead bug splatter on my windshield and headlights. This wasn't quite as much of a problem as the feast that their brethren were having on my helmet. I'm not a fan of any flying insects with black and yellow stripes at the best of times. The idea of picking up the helmet which was being carefully attended by a small swarm really didn't appeal to me. I stood a safe distance away watching them. They ignored me and continued to feast, showing no signs of stopping. I continued to stand patiently waiting for them to leave my bike and helmet alone. It was an impasse.

Eventually I decided that I had to take some sort of action, else the standoff would continue and I would be pitching a tent at the same gas station later that evening. I zipped up my jacket, and cautiously retrieved my gloves. After carefully inspecting them, I put them on. So far, so good. Now for the helmet. I picked it up. A couple of wasps flew off and came right back to it. They seemed a lot more interested in the bug splatter than in me. Trying not to disturb them I lifted up the helmet and tilted it so I could inspect the interior. It seemed to have nothing of interest for them. Slowly I eased it over my head, and had a close up view of my pet wasp swarm. I started the bike and slowly started moving. As I picked up speed, I left the wasps behind. I rode out of town, and then pulled off of the road to fasten the helmet. I hadn't wanted to spend any more time with the wasps than necessary, and the idea of trying to fasten the straps with the wasps inches from my hands had little appeal.

Thankfully at the next gas stop I wasn't nearly as popular. This gas station amused me. It didn't seem to have a name, instead it advertises to all visitors the three most important things it has to offer - Gas! Diesel! Gifts! Certainly just what I look for when I stop for gas. It also shared space with a dairy queen, trying to meet any need of the traveler. Not exactly where I go shopping for gifts - but perhaps I am strange that way...

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I continued riding through Nebraska, stopping that night in North Platte. Shortly after stopping for the night I discovered that Marid2apterbuilt was out on 18 wheels 50 miles west of me in Ogallala. He was the one who noticed it - I had turned on Google Latitude on the Blackberry so that people could track my progress. We had missed hooking up with each other in the Smokey Mountains due to scheduling, so made plans to hook up the following morning at the crack of dawn for coffee.

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  • Member Contributer

The whips on that mill look very fragile..... unsure if that mill sees some real action, putting on a real load.....

other than that.............. great episode again :fing02:

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  • Member Contributer

...and cruz, amazin' how much more entertainin' these Threads are since You learned to read, huh....easier to figure out the pictures now too, huh... :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe:

Hey skuut,,, check over on SEMF for your awards :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe: :laughing6-hehe:

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  • Member Contributer

GREAT JOB "again" Olive......Great to see Folks takin' care of You along the way Girl..... :fing02:

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