© 1999 Austin Blessard
I planned to take Mile Eater to Mt Ranier Nat'l Park for a motorcycle campout this weekend. I left Friday around 6 pm and drove up to Boise, Idaho. 330 miles in 3 h 30 m. So far, so good.
Friday night, some drunk woman was wandering around the parking lot of the Super 8 where I was staying. She had a large cut on her head and blood was everywhere. So, do you think the hotel manager wanted to help? No siree, his answer was to throw her off the property. So, I called the police and medics to come tend to her. I should have recognized this as a harbinger of doom. But, I did not.
Anyway, I got up Saturday to heavy rain, hey no big deal. My Aerostich suit is now fully waterproof. Then my speedo cable broke, again, NBG. As I rode north, the weather got better and better. As I got into Oregon, it was beautiful. I saw a sign warning about road conditions in "Ladd Canyon". Hmmm.... canyons in Oregon? Yee ha! It was still in the 30's but a little canyon carving would be great!
As I tipped into that first curve, I felt the telltale wiggle of the front tire that told me I was on ICE! I couldn't use the brakes so I just puckered and prayed; running wide in the process. At least the surface was consistently black ice. I spent the next 40 minutes trying not to fight the bike.
After 10 miles or so, I got into the open again and saw clear road once again. But, I was going up and up. Unbeknownst to me (with all my warm gear on), the temp was dropping. I was doing about 70 (4000 rpm in sixth) and went under an overpass. There was the little spot of shade on the other side of the overpass where the sun had not yet hit. Well, I hit it. ICE!!! Handlebars went full lock left, back end came around about 30 degrees, uh-oh....this is gonna be ugly and painful....
Thank the LORD! I felt the hand of God grab me and save me from the biggest highside since my roadracing glory days! So what did I do? The typical Austin thing of course which is to get back on the gas and watch out for those overpasses.
I went through another canyon, this one had lots of snow piled up on the sides and only a couple of clear tracks in each lane. So, it was back down to 10-20 mph and dealing with the front tire doing it's ice dance. I did a bad thing, which was start to get confident. As I neared the end of the canyon, I thought maybe I should turn back....Nah, I'll press on in the finest tradition of a doomed (but skillful) motorcyclist.
Out of the canyons, it was great weather, sunny and about 45. So guess what happened when I started up the summit of the Blue Mountains of eastern Oregon? That's right! All the snow on the road (about 1 foot of hard pack) was becoming slush. More fun as only Austin knows how to have! The fun meter was pegged. Every truck that went past sent up a wave of dirty ice water which covered me. I could hardly wipe my shield for fear of losing what little traction I had. Remember the "traction pie" graphs they used to show in the safety courses? Well, I had a miniscule traction crumb!!!
It was going up these Blue Mountains that persuaded me to turn around. But guess what? There were only a couple of exits and they had not been plowed! Mamma mio! Vaffanculo! I was cursing myself more with each passing truck. Car passengers looked at me with disbelief and I can't blame them. I was actually starting to get a little concerned, no more like scared. There I said it. I WAS SCARED (but only a little). I could only manage 10-15 mph and was in an impending lowside condition constantly. Sure you are supposed to scan 10-12 seconds ahead, but that concept was out the window as I was forced to regress to my novice habit of looking a couple of yards in front of my tire for which track was clearer. I prayed for the good Lord to help me again.
After an hour of horrible road conditions I saw that 4 snowplows had actually plowed one of the exit ramps but only so they could stop and have lunch. Yee ha! I exited and got myself a little snack while I pondered at what point I lost any semblance of common sense. Hmmm... that's a good one. I think it was when I was about 10 when I saw my uncles Triumph (or was it Norton) in my Grandma's shed. Yep, that's the exact moment. I was hooked (doomed?) for life.
As I backtracked the road conditions were much improved as the sun was making the road mostly dry, except for the occassional spot of ice (I had to have something to keep me from being bored!) and the slush of course.
As I headed back to Boise, I thought that I was outta the woods, right!?? Ha! I made it to Mountain Home, ID to see some ominous clouds to the south. Well, it can't be worse than what I'd just went through, right?
It got dark. It snowed a little. It got darker. It snowed a lot more. As I passed the last hotel for 80 miles (now how was I supposed to know that?) I got a sick feeling in my stomach again. I found myself in a no shit blizzard. The wind was whipping the snow in a million directions and not a snowplow to be seen. I see that they don't like to mark the road very well. Every sign is covered with blown snow. I was desparate for a hotel. There was not one to be found south of Pocatello, Idaho. If there was, I missed it.
I couldn't stop for fear of getting smashed by an 18 wheeler. I thought of camping on the side of the interstate (after all, I was on a camping trip) but I nixxed that idea with a vision of an 18 wheeler jacknifing, running off the road, and pulverizing me. So on I pressed.
I put my tires on the "rumble strip" on the right side of the interstate to stay out of everyones way. That was fine, except for the fact that the other vehicles were all using the right lane. I found myself praying again, which is ironic as I was cursing myself between prayers.
By this time I was hungry, tired, and a little cold. At 10-15 mph, my alternator wasn't putting out enough juice to run the headlight, driving light, heated grips and electric vest (I had to use a higher gear to minmize the tendency of the back wheel to break loose). I considered all to be "mission critical". So I just alternated turning them off for a few minutes. At least the batteries in my heated insoles were fine. I passed a 5 car pileup, saw four ambulances and their crews working feverishly on a couple of people. What kind of idiot would be out in this mess? Hey, wait a minute. I know what kind of idiot. It's one that says "It wasn't snowing/raining/cold when I left!"
As I got close to the Utah border, I told myself that I saw stars overhead. I mean, I REALLY wanted to see a clear sky. But it was still snowing heavily. And then, as suddenly as it started snowing, it stopped. Those really were stars that I saw! Hallejujah!
I made it the rest of the way home to Ogden without any major delays. Totals:
4 hours/330 miles on Friday
14 hours/800 miles on Saturday
Rain
Thunderstorms
Blue sky
Flurries
Heavy snow
Blizzard conditions
No ice
Black ice
White ice
2 sets of footwarmer batteries
2 Nutrigrain bars
1 sore ass
1 very tired sphincter (from butt clenching)
hand cramps (from white knuckling the bars)
1 very stupid motorcyclist
Unsolicited product plugs:
-Aerostich suit with seam sealer and liberal doses of Camp Dry
-Held gloves with the nifty wiper on the left forefinger
-Alpinestar Tech Road GTX GoreTex boots, no shit waterproof
-Arai Quantum with Hi-Definition yaller shield with Fog City shield
-Hot Grips heated handgrips
-Aerostich "Unobtanium" electric vest
-HotTronics heated insoles
-Generic balaclava
-GoreTex bandanna
-JC Whitney yaller light (mounted under headlight)
(Thanks to Mark Cipriano for the installation)
Lessons learned:
Really wanting to go on a trip will not make the weather better.
Never underestimate the power of prayer.
There's something to be said for riding suits, waterproof boots, good quality motorcycle gloves, a comfortable helmet with a "Fog City" anti fog shield, heated grips, electric vest, heated insoles and whatever else I can find that is heated. (Hey, where is that ad for the 12V buttwarmer?)
Never start a trip that you can't finish.
If you are ever thinking of stopping but want to make it another "100 miles", and pass what could be the last hotel for awhile. STOP. It only takes a 5 minutes to ask.
Most importantly:
IT IS BETTER TO BE HOME AND WISHING YOU WERE RIDING, THAN TO BE RIDING AND WISH YOU WERE HOME!!!
So, do I regret ever starting the trip? Unequivocally, YES. It was a dumb thing to do. I forecast rain and temps in the 40's without taking into account the ice left from the night freeze. I had no idea I would go over an 8000 foot summit in Oregon. BTW, I ended up turning around just 2 hours from Mt Ranier Nat'l Park. I was about 25 miles south of Pendleton, Oregon. It is beautiful country. But it is best ridden in summer or fall.
I reckon the hardest thing for me to accept is that I CANNOT ride my bike everywhere or all year round in some places. I've never faced that prospect before and makes me realize that I lust for a warmer clime where I can ride all year.
So for you that take the car when the weather is less than optimum, I will still heap derision on you. But I will temper that with the concept of not riding in conditions that I can't/won't/shouldn't ride in.
As for Mile Eater, he did everything I asked and never complained. The alternator put out gobs of juice, enough to run all my stuff. The heat I complain about every summer saved my keester on this trip. M.E. handled everything I asked of it and asked for more. All this and I can run fully loaded WFO and get over 200 miles to a tank. I love this bike. And to think it is for sale. Why, that is utter blasphemy!
A road-weary, but satisfied Concours owner,
Austin Blessard- Ogden, Utah
94 Concours "Mile Eater" aka "Wonderbike"