West 2009
  
 

Day 02

August 28

 
 
 
  I decide that I could do with a good walk, so I quietly slip out of the room around 4:30 AM so as not to wake Andy. I love to run, but my wrecked right knee prevents that now so I try to walk when I can. It's peaceful and quite as I walk about a mile and a half. While I'm at it, I stop in at the Wal-Mart and pick up some cable and a small lock for securing my bag on the seat. Except for the occasional passing car, I have the whole area to myself.  
 
 
  When I get back to the room, Andy is already up and on the move. The next door Denny's beckons us for breakfast, so we heed the siren's call.  
 
 
 

As usual, I order unsweet tea for breakfast, but their version is just a little rank. I finally settle on water as my beverage of choice. As usual when I'm on the road, I order an omelet of some sort. As we wait for the grub to be delivered, I tell Andy -

"Well, if all goes according to plan we should be at the Motel 6 in Denver around 3:30 PM or so."

Today will be a bit shorter than yesterday - just 530 miles - but you never know what surprises those miles can hold. We finish breakfast off quickly then finish packing the bikes.

  
 
 
 

As with every morning of this trip, it is a tough choice trying to figure out how many layers to put on or leave off. I'd rather be a little cold than a lot of hot, so I dress rather lightly. We are out and rocking by 7 AM but a fog settles in that chills me to the bone. We are stuck in the dense pea soup and it's the wet, bone-chilling kind.

 
 
 
 

Normally I would just turn on my heated grips to get some warmth, but they have died. So I radio Andy -

"I need to pull off - I'm getting a little bit cold."

"Okay, go for it" he comes back at me.

In the dense fog, I figure I'd better find a safe place to pull of so the next rest area I come to, I seize the opportunity. Now my heated clothes have also decided to die at this point, so I just pull out some extra layers that I brought for such an event and slip them on. This is only the beginning of the equipment problems that I will face. Before this ride is done, I will have dealt with more equipment issues than I have in all of my previous trips combined. With the extra layers on, I start getting some body warmth back and settle into the rhythm of the road.

 
 
 
  The fog is a constant companion to us now and will blanket us for the next 2 hours. Cars appear and disappear as apparitions in the dim light.  
 
 
  Finally the warmth of the sun overcomes the fog and we can enjoy the fields around us that stretch on to the horizon. There's a field of sunflowers that paint the land a beautiful shade of gold in the morning sunlight.  
 
 
  As we move through western Kansas, we enter the area known as the Flint Hills. It reminds me a lot of the Black Hills of South Dakota with it's gentle, undulating terrain. Most folks think of Kansas as being as flat as a tabletop, which it is in many places. But this is not the flat prairies that you see in the textbooks at all.  
 
 
 

We stop for fuel and a break in Russell, Kansas and I notice a rider pulling up on an FJR. I also notice that he has an auxiliary fuel tank on the bank, so I figure he might be involved in the current running of the Iron Butt Rally. I know he's on a tight schedule if he is competing, so I don't tend to bother him long.

"Well, there's another man dress in one of them funny suits" I tell him..

He introduces himself - "I'm Terry Neale and I'm competing in the Iron Butt Rally if you are familiar with it."

"Yeah, I've got one of their license plates myself. I guess you were lucky enough to get picked."

"Well, it depends on whether you think it's lucky or unlucky" he says with a grin.

"Are you from the UK by any chance?" noticing a decide British accent.

"Yes, but I've been here many years. I live in Orange County, California now" he offers.

"I know you're on a tight schedule, so I'd better leave you alone. Good luck on your run."

"Thanks. I was in the top 25 yesterday but I'm not doing so great today" he adds.

"Be careful out there and watch those cages!" I tell him as I leave him to his business at hand.

Terry goes on to finish in 45th place - which is a much bigger accomplishment that it may seem since many folks don't finish at all.

  
 
 
  Andy and I still have several miles ahead of us, so we get back to mile eating. The rides to and from the west via the slab don't have a lot of 'romance' about them. The 'Then Came Bronson' moments are few and far between. It's basically about covering a bunch of miles in the shortest time possible as comfortably as possible without entanglement from the local constabulary. So you tend have time to see the surrounding landscape and this is quite the farming place. A field of mullet stretches to the horizon.  
 
 
 

When we arrive at the first of the last of my stateline signs for Frost, there are a group of ladies and some kids at the sign. They have parked a little distance away in their SUV and are taking pictures. I pull up and wait for them to finish, trying to be respectful. As I sit there, they take pictures with their cameras, they take pictures with the cell phones, they retake pictures, they check the pictures that they took, they set up various groupings and take more pictures. After a lengthy bit of waiting, I fully expect an Olan Mills representative to pop up from behind the sign and take some more pictures. When they finally walk away, I start to pull Frost down to the sign - only to see one of them run back to the sign for another shot. It's a good thing I was paying attention, for they certainly were not. I exclaim to them -

"I'm sorry, I thought you were done" trying to be as kind as I can be at this point.

As they move away from the sign, I take my shots quickly and Andy and I get out of Dodge - just in case they decide on another long photo op.

 
 
 
  At Burlington, Colorado we pull in for what will be our last fuel stop before Denver. The place is for sale, and the man that owns it has his BMW 1150RT setting inside. He has a friend in Colorado who used to ride an ST1100 like mine so he recognizes the bike immediately. We talk about life on the road and the challenges and pleasures. We wish him well on his sale of the place and we're onto the final leg of the journey.  
 
 
  What makes this final leg so interesting is that there is no real sense of climbing up to any altitude at all. Denver is called the 'Mile-high City' because its official elevation is exactly one mile, or 5,280 feet above sea level. But it appears to be flatter than a pancake as we approach the town proper.  
 
 
  Our arrival into Denver is welcomed by lots of heat and lots of traffic - not a very happy combination. You would think at this altitude things would be cooler but that is definitely not the case today. It's a lot of stop and go traffic, but at least it is moving a little bit.  
 
 
  It's with much relief that we finally get to the Motel 6 where we will be spending the evening and waiting on Dave to get in. It's a rather nice building in a good area with several restaurants in close walking distance.  
 
 
 

As I check in, I guess the lady behind the counter feels sorry for me and offers me the senior rate, which I readily accept since I qualify. In fact at this point, after 1,200+ miles in two days I feel overqualified! While I deal with the fine details, Andy commandeers a luggage cart to make getting our stuff to the room a lot more convenient. It's a nice enough room and we've gotten here early so we have time to sort some things out. I notice that the battery on my camera is about dead, so I search through my stuff for my extra camera batteries. But I come up empty, though I did bring my camera battery charger along. I turn to Andy -

"Well, dummy me left my extra camera batteries back the house. That's not very good" I tell him.

It's an Olympus camera and they are not the sort of batteries that you can find at a drugstore or Wal-Mart. Since we have some time to kill, I whip out the old Yellow Pages and start looking for something that is close. I see a Batteries Plus ad and ring up the first store. Sure enough, they have the battery that I need so ask him where he is located. His store is halfway across the city, but when I tell him where I am he lets me know there is store in the area and it has the battery I need in stock. I thank him then check with the motel desk clerk as to how far that would be. She knows the street but does not have clue which direction or how far. Since I prefer not to wander around in the heat, I go back to the room and call the store directly. He is very helpful and gives great directions. With this in hand, I tell Andy -

"Well, I'm off to see what I can come up with. I reckon I'll see you in a bit."

I figure it's too hot to walk, so I uncover Frost, and hit the road. As it turns out, the store is right out of the parking lot and about 3 miles up on the same street. The folks there are extremely helpful, so I buy 2 camera batteries and pick up a cell phone battery for my wife's cell phone while I'm at it. With the prizes in hand, I quickly make my way back to the motel where we chill until the desk clerk calls.

"There's a Mister Whitely here at the front desk" she intones.

Sure enough, Dave has landed and all of his gear has arrived. I give him a big bear hug and say

"It's about time you got here. I'm starving to death waiting on you."

He and Andy introduce themselves and we help Dave get his stuff pitched. After he cleans up a bit, we wander over to the local Applebees for some good grub and some tall tales. It seems kind of funny that I have probably ridden more miles on two wheels with these two fellers sitting in front of me than any other humans in the universe - and one of them lives thousands of miles away! After dinner, we waddle back to the motel, deciding to try Rosie's Diner right next door for breakfast. The shop doesn't open until 9 AM, so we've got plenty of time in the morning. We bid our adieus then begin the process of checking our eyelids for holes. Little do we know what a big surprise will await Dave in the morning.