So I’m not sure how or why, but it’s 7:58am and I’m at my desk at work. Now, it’s not so much the fact that I’m at work on the start of a trip, but the fact that I’m here before 8am really chaps my crapper. I’m not a morning person nor do I ever want to be one. But I’m awake and giddy, only 5 more hours until I’m out of here and the trip starts. It doesn’t actually feel like a vacation, just a long weekend trip. I know it will be a short one but at least I’m getting out. Time to just grind through the day and see where life takes me.
Well this does not bode well. The time to find an antifreeze leak on your bike is not when it’s in the driveway packed and running, warming up, and preparing to ride 2000 miles. This has been a semi persistent problem recently with the bike. I’ve noticed on a couple of occasions that there’s a little smoke coming off the right side on a cold start after sitting for a couple of days. It’s kind of unsettling, but easy enough to brush off. It has the distinct smell of maple syrup, which can only be antifreeze burning up. It’s a thickly sweet smell, but definitely not a good one. I tried to find the leak last night, but could see nothing amiss. Well, it’s not hard to spot now. Dripping right onto a nice hot exhaust pipe. And dripping much faster than I like. Simply not a good thing to be happening at this time. My choice? I ignore it. If I pretend it’s not there it might just go away. But nagging thoughts remain……I know exactly what antifreeze will do as it drips from the bike. First, the location: I don’t know where the leak originates, but I see the end result, right on the centerline of the motorcycle. Bad place for a leak. I have many terrible mental images of what this could lead to. What comes to your mind? Probably not something as gruesome as what comes to my mind. See, I have this fear of antifreeze. We all know what ethylene glycol does to the paint on a vehicle, but what does it do to vulcanized rubber? It doesn’t harm it per se, but it does make it a little more slick. If the leak is profuse enough, it will leave a nice little trail on the road right in front of my rear wheel. Not so big a deal to hit a small patch of antifreeze, but I don’t want to be riding along a slick of it for any length. But what’s the effect? In the famous words of my High School physics teacher Mr. Dave Dailey, “You fool! You fool! m equals FF over FN!”. “Exactly!” was always my reply. It does. And with the ethylene glycol-vulcanized rubber combination, my m is shrinking. More on this later……
Made it to D.J.’s without incident. A little wary but all seems okay. No prolonged smoke. No spills.
No overheating. I inspect the
bike and all the drippings are long burned away. No new ones to be seen.
Time to Ride.
But the day still doesn’t seem right. It’s gorgeous out. The sun has been getting brighter and the temperature has been rising. Spirits are high and mighty. But is doesn’t seem right. I can’t get excited about today’s ride. I know it’s necessary to start the trip by getting on the bike, but I know that all I’ve got ahead of me today is 200 miles of I-5. What’s the fun in that? Oh well, might as well do some final preparations. Yeah, time to download.
Wouldn’t you know it; everyone’s waiting on me. D.J.’s ready. Cathi’s ready. SpongeBob’s ready. I think now I might be ready. Head out to the bike after wrecking the bowl, and lo and behold who’s got a mighty head on his shoulder this afternoon? SpongeBob. It seems as though he thinks he’s driving today. What a punk. He and I had this conversation earlier. He knows he’s riding bitch the whole trip.
Is that Scott ahead of us? It might be. Mid ‘90’s auto. Dark color. No brake lights. Oh wait, the third brake light is working, just not the other two. Very possibly could be Scott. After all, his brake lights have only been out for about 2 years now.
Oregon!! I see the state line all by myself (like you can miss it on the bridge traversing the Columbia River). It’s a positive omen seeing it all on my own. It’s also a positive moment knowing that I don’t have too much more freeway riding ahead of me for the trip. Thought about stopping for a little picture to mark the event but SpongeBob is napping quite nicely. Reminiscent of the days of being on the back of Dad’s bike on a motorcycle trip. The old ’81 Super Sport. Man, I put in some quality hours sleeping on the back of that bike while traveling the windy highways and byways of the Pacific Northwest. So it seems a shame to wake him now just for an Oregon photo op. There’ll be plenty on this trip.
D.J. has some sixth sense about him. A sense that goes with his sense of smell. A sense that leads him to places unknown on roads unraveled. A parallel universe some may say. We’re taking some funky off ramps, unexpected roads, and round about ways. A few rights, a few lefts, a few crosses over less than desirable railroad tracks. It almost seems like he’s leading us into the projects. But no, a destination far more titillating! Where do we pull up? None other than Martin Sprocket and Gear. Quite the adventure for me. I didn’t know he was so into gear oil. I’m all for it. I love to shop at Martin. They have some great deals on bearings. Silly me thought this was where we were really headed. Come to find out D.J. can’t really smell gear oil 10 miles away. What he can smell however is beer. And man does SpongeBob LOVE to drink beer. Time to kick back, swill a pint, fill the belly, and rock on.
But today’s ride was a disappointment. It wasn’t about the ride it was about the destination. Contrary to every reason I ride the bike and go on these annual pilgrimages. We’re here. We got here in short order. But it wasn’t the fun day of riding it should have been. It was point A to point B the fastest and shortest way possible. The worst part? No time for introspection. No wandering of the mind. No deep thoughts. No Haiku’s. And thankfully no bee stings. Perhaps tomorrow will be a brighter day.
Roll 20k miles on the bike. Not important to any of you. But since I take this trip for myself you don’t have a choice but to put up with the randomness that is my thoughts.
Today’s Miles: 209
Total Miles: oddly enough, 209
So I can only assume that everyone else is as disappointed with yesterday as I am. No amusing anecdotes, no funny asides, no clever segues, no aphorisms that make you shoot red beans and rice through your nose as you guffaw with laughter (while you eat your red beans and rice). Perhaps today will be a brighter day. But not with how it’s starting. There’s dew on the bike. Not much, but enough to make me aware that it’s either 1) really humid out or 2) a little chilly out.
Aha !! It’s number 2. It’s a little chilly out. Started with the wrong set of gloves. I went to Eagle Leather this week to buy a new set of winter gloves for a reason. Glad they’re in the saddlebag as my hands turn a little blue on the ride. But that’s what heated grips are for. Time to kick it up a notch to high and see if I can’t warm things up a bit.
It’s boring and it’s cold. Neither of which I can control. We’re rolling through Boring, Oregon (which I can’t control) and it’s cold (which I can’t control). Is there a notch for really high on the heat setting?
We have arrived. The whole point of the trip. Not for a destination. Not for a person. Not for a place. Not for a thing. But for a sense of being. A reason to smile. A reason to ride. Highway 26 is one of those reasons. Doing 70mph while climbing through 2500 vertical feet in the left lane passing everything in sight with a knee millimeters from dragging on the ground. Long sweeping twisties. The full embodiment of canyon carving. What makes the 200+ miles of freeway to get here bearable. It warms the body and the soul. No nagging thoughts of if’s, and’s, or but’s. No what I should do or what I should have done. No more thoughts of cold hands. No more thoughts of full bladders. The only thing on my mind is scrubbing my knees and not getting stung by bees.
Dammit. Bees. Luckily they’re more attracted to SpongeBob than to me. There’s probably 15 or 20 of them. All hanging out to sting me I’m sure. But the 4 of us escape with as many holes in our body as we had when we began the trip so no incident to speak of yet.
Whoda thunk that taking care of SpongeBob on this trip would be so demanding. I have a long-standing theory that kids are great as long as you can give them back. Well it finally sunk in that I have to supervise SpongeBob on the entire trip. Other than perching him in precariously high places I’d say we’re doing a fairly good job…Well, maybe I spoke to soon. SpongeBob seems to have an inkling toward rock climbing. Luckily I was able to pull him back up. The boy’s arms are so disproportionately small for his body. Perhaps I better keep a better eye on him.
Time to make new friends. Quite the shy little guy, didn’t even catch his name. Did get a great view of the canyon though. Named after Peter Skene Ogden. Yup, the same dude that Ogden, Utah was named after. Find the link yourself if you’re really that interested…
Jeff, this one’s for you. Suppose we could find the daughter of the guy who owns this store and marry her? Oh wait; better have a second though about that one. Other than this store being a walking, talking ATF advertisement, I didn’t realize that it had a mascot. Don’t ask me what the bear’s doing to that fish. Does give a whole new meaning to “catch and release” though.
Okay, so if SpongeBob can make new friends all the time, why can’t I? Here he is chatting it up with Juris*, Svetlana, and Jim. He found out the whole scoop on their life. Juris (on the left) has a PhD in Chemistry. He, his wife, and her brother all lived in the Ukraine until 6 years ago. Political turmoil and uncertainty brought them to the realization that it was safer to abandon their belongings, their family, and their life and move to the US than it was to stay behind in their war torn province. Juris, having taught at the University for most of his career, has thrived well in corporate America. Through the wonderful opportunities that the land of the free and the home of the brave have to offer, he’s gone from being a lowly respected member of his collegiate community to a highly respected fork truck driver at the Associated Grocer’s distribution center in Galveston, Texas. I’ve always heard that America has something for everyone.
The boy’s at it again. Now he’s yuckin’ it up with Jennifer and Benjamin. Jennifer just graduated school as a licensed masseuse and Benjamin is a retired dot-comer. He put in his time, cashed in the stock, and watched and laughed as the market subsequently tanked. Benjamin, point of advice, buy the pretty girl a pair of shoes she can hike in.
The randomness that is Crater Lake.
The randomness that is Wizard Island.
The randomness that is this picture. You’d think that with the phrase “rim drive” I’d be able to come up with something clever, witty, and sexually oriented.
Holy cow, this boy won’t stop!! SpongeBob gets his first kiss. Whereas he’s just a little too shy to let us capture the moment for posterity, he does pose with the lovely young lady (Jasmine) and her happy folks. She’s quite the catch, and just about his size.
Hmmmm…the idiot light is coming on for the reserve tank. Faintly though. And not frequently. Perhaps I can ignore it.
Hmmmm…the idiot light is mildly more persistent now. Perhaps I can ignore it.
Pop Quiz: I leave Gresham, Oregon at 8:48 am PST in a South-Easterly direction traveling at an average 67mph driving a 1998 Honda ST1100. You leave Magalia, California at 8:48 PST in a Northerly direction traveling at an average 56mph driving a 1964 Burlington Northern Diesel Locomotive. At approximately 4:48pm PST that two vehicles in travel pass each other on a non-descript tract of road. The two vehicles are passing each other for a distance of 0.814 miles.
1) How long is the train
2) Does it have a caboose
3) What did the driver eat for lunch?
Answers will appear in tomorrow’s column.
Hmmmm… the idiot light sure does seem bright. Sure wish I knew when I was going to run out of gas. I only have 14 more miles to go. Perhaps I can ignore it.
Hmmmm… perhaps I shouldn’t have ignored the idiot light. If you run out of gas on the side of the road within sight of a gas station are you still considered an idiot? Is this why someone named the light an idiot light?
Doesn’t matter. I didn’t actually run out of gas. I made it to the gas station just fine. I did however spend the last 28 miles doing all the calculations in my head of exactly when I would run out of gas. Theoretically I shouldn’t have made it to the station. I got some hellishly good mileage today. I even managed to fit 6.468 gallons of fuel into my 6.400 gallon tank.
Random insight of the day: Every minute of latitude is one nautical mile.
Today’s miles: 326
Total miles: 535
Some names have been changed to protect the guilty; some names remain the same to incriminate the innocent. All stories have been made up. If any photographee would care to drop me a line, I’d be more than happy to tell the real story. For those of you who would like to download high quality photographs, I will make a directory available at the end of the trip of all publishable photos taken.
Answers to yesterday’s Pop Quiz:
1) 1.494 miles long
2) How the heck should you know
3) You should know, you’re the driver
Hmmmm…another 4 or 5 teaspoons of antifreeze on the ground after I start up the bike this morning. Seems to be a little more than yesterday, which was a little more than the day before. Perhaps I can ignore it for now.
It’s a brisk 53 degrees this morning. Not terrible though, the sun is out, a good night’s rest is behind me, and life is looking pretty fine. As we prepare to head out I ask D.J. to get his camera ready. I know that in a few short miles we’ll be coming up on California. SpongeBob having never been there would love to pose for a photo. He says it’s ready and I believe him.
Well, there goes the Cali state line. No picture. It seems as though D.J. didn’t see me hold up SpongeBob and pose him. I mean, at 70mph what else would he be doing than watching for SpongeBob and me? I guess D.J. didn’t realize that I’d once again miss seeing the state line and zoom right on by. Oh well…
Oh yeah baby!! State Inspection coming up. Man I hope I get frisked. I haven’t been felt up in days and I might be able to enjoy this. Perhaps if I kick in all my fruits and vegetables I can get a massage out of the inspector!!
No such luck…the inspector is not interested in having any bodily contact with me in any way, shape, or form. Heck, he won’t even pose with SpongeBob. Humorless state employees…
Weed. Here’ we are. I’d love to snap a pic with SpongeBob and me but he’s nowhere to be found. Maybe he ran off with a local gal…
Here we are waiting in a line of cars quite some distance long after having traversed perhaps the best 8 miles of road I have ever had the pleasure of riding. Highway 299 out of Redding, California is absolutely spectacular. I can’t quite explain the guttural pleasure that comes from controlling over 100 horsepower flying down the road at 60mph, careening through amazing sweepers with nothing more between me and the 200’ cliff than 16” of gravelly shoulder. Nothing but love for this road.
That is until the State of California Department of Transportation gets involved. At the summit, here we sit and wait. We weren’t quite in the mood to wait in line so we cut to the front on the shoulder. I personally view this as the safest thing to do. After all, if I don’t pass them now at 5mph, I’ll pass them in a couple of miles at 95mph. Don’t know if this argument would go over well with the local gendarme, but it can’t hurt to prepare my defense now.
Oh my, SpongeBob’s got himself in a pickle now. But as we stop for lunch, I see that it’s not a pickle SpongeBob has stuck between his teeth, but some bugs he accumulated along the trip. Yes, today was SpongeBob’s first day of bravery. The first day where he was willing to come out of hiding and ride up front. It works well for a while, but come to find out SpongeBob can’t hold on all that well. He’s good up to about 65mph but after that his little fingers just don’t have the grip to withstand the wind. Perhaps if he had more than 4 fingers on each of his little undersized hands he’d have a better chance of withstanding the gruel I put him through. Which makes me think, how would I live life if my hands were as disproportionately small to my body as SpongeBob’s are to his? Chopsticks would definitely have to be skinnier, that’s for darn sure. Gloves would cost less given the smaller amount of material they’d require. Doorknobs would be smaller. Beer bottles would be a different shape. Dumbbells could probably stay the same. Too much to think about right now, many more miles of curves ahead.
After another 88 miles of glorious 299 we have arrived at the PCH. SpongeBob gets his first glimpse of the Pacific.
Oh Deer!! Oh my!! Oh Deer!! No, literally, deer!! We’re traveling along a riverbed now. Still cruising up the PCH (as we will be for many hours to come) and for some reason traffic slows. And there’s cars parked all along the side of the road. And people rubbernecking. Gawking at something I can’t define. But as Cathi frantically waves her arms towards the deer I finally see them. But of course everyone else but me knows they’re really elk. After all, the 17 “Elk Crossing” signs I’ve seen in the last 6 miles should lead me to that conclusion.
Well we finally hit a milestone on the trip. When we set out we didn’t have many goals. We knew we wanted to go South. See some stuff. Then go North. See some more stuff. Perhaps have a little fun in the middle. Me, it was a time to clear my head. A time not to reflect, not to dwell, not to ponder. No great insights. No introspection. No haikus. Just a time to relax and to ride. Me and the bike. The bike and the road. Hopefully not me and the road. I did however want to drive through a tree. And that I did do. SpongeBob wanted to do a kartwheel with me. And that I did do too. And D.J. and Cathi wanted to drive through a tree. And that they did do. And SpongeBob wanted to show his love for the trees (he’s a freakin’ tree hugger…). And that he did do. And SpongeBob wanted to meet new friends. And that he did do too. And all of you want me to stop this paragraph. And that I will do.
So SpongeBob’s new friends are Jethro and Sally Sue. They drove all the way from West (by God) Virginia. 3000 miles to drive through a damn tree. And I thought I was crazy to drive 863 miles to do the same. But they were pretty cool people. Quite the busy folk. They’re on a month-long trip around the country to see what they can see and do what they can do. Just decided to up and get away from life. Apparently the witness protection program now allows this option. Hmm. Might be something I want to get into later in life.
So a heartfelt thanks goes out to the entire tribe of the Yurok Indians. This tribe was kind enough to share with us their culture and their heritage. They welcomed us with open arms and were so very pleased to be able to share stories of the past, their present, and their future. We took time out of our day to experience the pleasure of their sweat tent. There’s some fancy name for it but I can’t quite remember what it is. Basically you sit in a tent that has a fire pit in the middle. There’s a pile of piping hot stones on which you throw water as you profess a prayer to “grandfather”. The theory is you do this for a while, smoke some peyote, and a vision will come to you that answers your prayer. Whoa. It was a little much to take in all in one day. I made an ass of myself, but SpongeBob, he’s their new best friend. As a token of remembrance all I asked for was a picture of SpongeBob with the symbol of their tribe. That being a large golden bear. Basically they answered with a big fat no. Not gonna happen. I tried. D.J. tried. We talked. We bribed. We offered a motorcycle ride for one of the elders. Nothin’ doin’. But Cathi. She came through. She took one for the team. She offered to flash them in exchange for the photo. The result? SpongeBob goes BearBack. Now, I’m not sure what kind of resolution you have on your screen, but D.J. instantly notices that this bear has a set of brass balls. We send in our new reporter SpongeBob to investigate. You don’t want to know what he found. All I can say is stay away from Campbell’s thick and chunky soups.
It’s Paul Bunyan and Babe !! Where D.J. finds this stuff I will never know.
A T-rex by the side of the road. Something about a “prehistoric garden”. Whatever.
Holy Crap. It’s cold out. I know it’s still 51 degrees (almost the same temperature as when we left this morning), but the sun is almost down, we’re right next to the ocean, there’s a swell little side wind, and we’re driving through what comes to be a 38 mile fog bank. It’s cold out. My outy is now an inny. And I’m not talking belly buttons here. Wind-chill factor at 78mph puts the temperature at 21 degrees. Damn. Good thing I’m wearing everything I have on. But I still stop to put on more.
SpongeBob and me are off on a beer run. The hot tub closes at 9pm so we need to be quick. 8 minutes later we’re back with beer in hand.
I just wish that SpongeBob had saved some of the beer for us. The little yellow whore drank it all himself. And he plowed through a whole damn pizza!! That boy got ripped. So after the beer’s all gone, he says he has a little “treat” for all of us. He goes out to his car (where did he get a car?) and comes back in with a bag of “goodies”. Oh my. Now I know where SpongeBob disappeared to in Weed. He went to hook himself up. Well, apparently dope isn’t the only thing he got hooked up with. The boy got some blow too. So then he calls some ‘ho’s so he can get deflowered! Who does this boy think he is? Robert Downey Jr.? Charlie Sheen? I certainly don’t envy him the headache he will have in the morning…
Today’s Miles: 484
Total Miles: 1019
Random realization of the day: You will never see yourself in the mirror with your eyes closed.
So SpongeBob got a little wasted last night. He did things he can’t quite remember. For instance, he called Dave’s pizza and placed himself an order. Of course, he has no recollection of making friend’s with Chris the delivery driver. And he has no recollection of what kind of honey’s he picked up. I don’t recall meeting them either, but I did get to experience the aftermath. Man, what a sight. It’s kind of funny that the little guy requires viagra to get it up. You’d think being a sponge and all he’d only need a glass of water to get it to expand. Oh yeah, and a couple pieces of advice for next time SpongeBob: 1) have protected sex, I saw no condom wrappers around, and 2) everyone knows that if you need a personal lubricant you need look no further than Astroglide. KY Jelly is so 1980’s.
So once I get his sorry butt on the bike the day can finally begin. Of course there does happen to be some antifreeze dripping, but enough about that, I’m still ignoring it. I can’t stop thinking about yesterday’s ride. I know that Highway 35 through Wisconsin was a great road (as I made mention on day 6 of the 2000 trip) but I can’t seem to get my mind off 299. What a day. Now 35 had it’s highlights (great speed limit, no other cars, the best scenery of any road I’ve been on) but 299 had its highlights as well (knee dragging sweepers, constant elevation changes, did I mention the knee dragging sweepers?). So I’m torn as to which road I’d rather ride on. I’ve been asked countless times throughout my years (zero would be countless) what I would classify as the perfect road. Boy, between 35 and 299 there’s got to be a compromise. There’s got to be some road that truly is the perfect combination of these. Perhaps one day I’ll find it, the rainbow connection…
D.J.’s first U-turn. I only mention it because he very rarely needs to take U-turns. Something about good eyesight and paying attention to where he’s going. Of course, it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t point out that the only reason we’re turning around in the first place is because I was leading and drove by 3 separate signs telling me where to turn.
What should have been mile 94 is now the famous Newport, Oregon Aquarium. Cool place. Really worked out. Once I roused SpongeBob from his slumber (he’s still a little hung over) he was really pleased that we would think about him and stop off to see some of his friends. The first stop was to see Patrick, but we couldn’t find him. We did however find his cousin Ernie (he’s the purple one in the lower left, if you don’t understand this reference go watch the cartoon). Once the happy hi’s were exchanged it was off to see what the rest of the aquarium had to offer. Must say, from my point of view, the jellyfish were absolutely phenomenal. They had more species there than any other aquarium in the world. Truly unique creatures. No brain, no heart, no bones (wait, did I just describe almost every manager we’ve ever hated?). But enough about what I liked seeing, apparently this trip is all about SpongeBob. I hear he likes alligators! And he doesn’t like sharks! And he always wondered what it would be like if he had to go down in the ocean as a lungfish. For kicks he tried on a diving suit. A special thanks to the wonderful staff at the aquarium for not kicking us out!
How many of you were nerds in school? How many of you got swirlies? How many of you got wedgies? How many of you got stuffed in your locker?
Washington State line. Yup. Right on top of a mighty big river.
As I travel up the 101 (it no longer feels like the PCH) I’ve gotten to experience quite a different bit of scenery. But the image that catches my eye the most is of me. Me and my shadow. As the sun begins is ever increasing descent into the Pacific my shadow is right alongside. It inspires a poem. “Ode to be my Shadow”.
Oh boy. A poet I am not. Some of you oh-so-painfully remember my haiku about grain from trips past. Well, the poem isn’t quite up to par with that piece of work. I’ve got roughly seventeen lines written in my head but it really, really sucks. I had a great outline. I knew the number of verses, the number of lines in each verse. The common theme that would take the poem in a circle from beginning to middle to end and back to the beginning. Then I tried putting words to the outline. A poet I am not. But here goes anyway:
Ode to be my Shadow, by The Reverend
Watch as I dance,
Dance upon the blades of….
Oh Holy Crap !!!! Enough about the poem. We’ve been interrupted by a bee!! Any not just any of us, not me!! I am sooooo happy!! A bee that didn’t find me!! Unfortunately, it found SpongeBob.
Are you ready kids?
I can't hear you...
Oh! Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
Absorbent and yellow and stung by a bee!
If swelling and pain is something you wish...
Then give that bumblebee a kiss!
It seems as though SpongeBob thought he was going to make a new friend. Here’s the happy bee happily flying. Here’s SpongeBob happily crying. Why oh why did he try and kiss a bee?
Luckily SpongeBob is not allergic to bees. So no swelling. In fact, by the time we hit the pool at the hotel, there was no visible damage to SpongeBob at all. He’s even feeling good enough to partake in a little spell in the sauna.
Today’s Miles: 422
Total Miles: 1441
Random wisdom for the day: A man without a wife is like a fish without a motorcycle.
Damn antifreeze. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.
Lake Crescent. This place rocks. What scenery. What curves. The only thing wrong with the picture is the temperature (it’s cold), the speed limit (we ignore), and the paving (it’s grooved). What curves. What scenery. This place rocks.
Port Townsend. The Logue clan lives here. That’s about it.
I don’t know how many of you have ever been stuck in a line at a ferry. To all of you who have: SUCKERS!!! Washington State loves commuter traffic. They love High Occupancy Vehicles. I love the fact that a motorcycle is one in Washington State. See, when you’re in a car, you sit in line. You get near the ferry. You sit in the backlog line. You sit in the holding line. You sit in the waiting line. You buy the ticket. You sit in a new holding area. You watch one ferry leave. You may watch a second ferry leave. You get on the ferry. You sit. You dock. You sit. Then you leave and sit in traffic.
On a motorcycle, you pull up to the very front, bypassing all the waiting cars, pay your nominal fee (less than a happy meal), and go straight to the designated area. You’re first on the ferry. You’re first off the ferry.
The first encounter with rain on the trip. 1.2 miles of it. Not too bad all things considered.
Oyster Run. Anacortes. Nothing too terribly exciting. More dead cow here than on any other place on Earth. Oh my. Lots of leather. And since this is primarily a Harley event, most of these people need multiple yards of leather to make a garment to fit around them. SpongeBob stays quite. He doesn’t even peek his head out. Seems he feels a little nekkid without dead cow wrapped around him.
Today’s Miles: 218
Total Miles: 1659
And of course the statistics:
Total Miles: 1659
Total gallons of gas: 34.948
Average Miles per Gallon: 47.47
Number of people besides me who care: 0
Ounces of beer consumed: 384
Ounces of urine it produced: 445
Number of new friends SpongeBob made: 11
Number of names I made up for his friends: 9
Number of e-mails I received in response to trip logs: 0
Number of bugs who perished on our windshields: 6,416
Percent of their body weight that is fecal matter: 42
Pounds of bug crap on our motorcycles: 1.382
Number of wildlife we collided with: 0
Number of trucks we collided with: 0.5
Number of spicy meals: 7
Volume of marinated air they produced: 28 (scf)
Ounces of extra antifreeze I must have had: 7.28 (well, if they leaked they must have been extra)
Number of vehicular accidents we saw: 2
Number of vehicular accidents we caused: 0
Number of trees we drove into: 0
Number of trees we drove through: 1
Number of times the word SpongeBob appeared in this trip log: 49
Number of times the word skullduggery appeared in this trip log: 1
Number of people I sent the URL to for this trip: 84
Number of times my website was accessed through tonight: 8
Number of people who were apparently just glad I left town: 76