The Great Basin

The Great Basin
Wheeler Peak

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

 

ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH


The BMW Club of Colorado each year does a 100,000 foot ride, where over the course of a long day you end up going over mountain Passes that have a cumulative total of over 100,000 feet. I have always wanted to do this ride. Several years ago Jeff Stokes and Ed Rosco did it and I was envious at the time and even thought about crashing their ride but did not. 2020 was such a bust because of locking down for the continuing Covid mess, that I was determined to try and ride as much as possible over my beloved Great Basin and the West as a whole. So far this riding season I have gone to Yosemite via two passes, Southern Utah on the Ducati with DeVern and Ed Rosco on his S1000RR, the MOA rally in Great Falls, and Paonia with DeVern and the last time I checked I have ridden my three motorcycles a tad less than 12,000 miles with at least two months, weather permitting, of the riding season left.

DeVern and I, along with our friend who lives in Gunnison, David K Haedt, decided to do this ride and made plans to meet him in Meeker Colorado on Thursday August 5th, so that we would do the ride to the start of this adventure in two days. He had stayed in Meeker at a nice motel and we made reservations there. Several weeks previous to this, when we went to Paonia, we had gone by Way of Meeker, had lunch at the Meeker Cafe and then down to Glenwood Springs, so on leaving Salt Lake early Thursday morning, we met as we usually do at the Conoco Station in Kamas and then proceeded over Wolf Creek to Duchesne and then Highway 40 to Dinosaur Colorado where we would turn down to Rangeley and then East to Meeker. We decided to save the Meeker Cafe, which is in an old historic hotel, for breakfast the next morning so we ate at another place along the main highway.


This was my second outing on my 2021 Tiger 900 Pro GT, bought for a long trip that DeVern and I have signed up for on the Routa 40 in Chile and Argentina in January of next year, where you take your own bike, which will be shipped from Houston and after the 33 day ride, returned to Houston in the Spring. Unfortunately at this juncture it looks like Covid will postpone it for 2022. The Tiger is a great handling and very smooth and quiet engine and gets fantastic gas mileage and holding 5.3 gallons a range so that DeVern doesn't have to stop sooner than he needs to because either my Ducati or BMW RS needs fuel. On one stretch of this trip I got over 62 mpg.

The Tiger has an off-road mode and we had decided to do a stretch of about 80 miles on dirt, a few miles East of Meeker (Country Road 8) that ends up near Phippsburg and from there we would wend our way on Friday afternoon to the maelstrom of traffic in Denver, we planned on stopping by BMW of Denver to get some last minute instructions on the ride that would leave from there on Saturday Morning about 7. DeVern's wife Cathy is a wiz at making reservations and found us a nice Hotel near BMW of Denver which is actually located in Centennial Colorado.

The dirt ride was through some really beautiful scenery even with smoke in the air for much of the weekend and we stopped for a rest on the dirt part and there was an informational plaque with information on the surrounding topography .

Earlier on Friday the 6th my newest grandson was born and I told both DeVern and David K I wanted to take them out to dinner to celebrate and we ended up taking an expensive Uber ride both ways, the place we went to was close enough so that David could walk over, but after the dinner, we gave him a ride back on our way to the Hotel.

BMW of Denver was a madhouse Saturday morning with a 180+ motorcycles getting ready for this ride. We completed the registration, got our Tee Shirts and found someone with a file for the GPS that they transferred to DeVern's GPS and he then transferred it to both David's and Mine and just before 7 am we left Denver and did not return till about 5:30 in the afternoon to Prospect Park where the end of the ride and dinner and the prize drawing were held. The only bad thing about the GPS file is that it was turn by turn and not Waypoints, and if you missed a turn you had your GPS, till you adjusted it repeatedly telling you to make a U turn, at one point this went on for 25+ minutes and I finally turned off my Sena Unit just to gain some sanity. You would think that with 180 bikes, it would almost be a mass group ride, but honestly they got spaced out a lot and some people who had done this before, did the ride in reverse, once in a while we would see a fair number of bikes either a head or slightly behind, but most of the time it was just the three of us.

David K lives in Gunnison and he had promised us lunch when we got to his house, but low and behold no one was home and instead we had coffee, and tea for me and left after about 15 minutes for the next mountain pass. After Gunnison we did Cottonwood Pass which is over 12,000 feet, but the road was great with beautiful scenery. I know I should stop more and take pictures, but being a very verbal person I take mental notes of the surroundings. We ended up loosing sight of David just before Buena Vista and didn't see him till Sunday morning, when he dropped by our hotel for the continental breakfast in the lobby area, before we took off for the ride home to Salt Lake.

In my youth, when I had a full head of hair, I had the opportunity to drive vehicles one summer in London, Paris, Rome, Athens, the Mulsanne Straight at LeMan's and along the Amalfi Coast and I will tell you here and now, I have never driven or ridden in worst traffic than just before and through Leadville Colorado, more than bumper to bumper , even the sidewalks were completely inundated with people, a large part of the way, I just pulled in the clutch and move both feet to move the bike 2 or 3 feet until traffic stopped again. Several of the small towns we drove through in Colorado had a lot of tourist traffic and it didn't help that the mud slide around Glenn Wood Springs had recently transpired and the road was still closed.

Some of these passes, I have ridden before on previous trips to Colorado or on my way to New Mexico and Santa Fe, my favorite's of the new passes, were the last couple of passes, Juniper and Squaw Pass. In this politically correct era, for good and bad that we live in, I am surprised it has not be renamed, liked several areas in Utah and California. Thinking of Mollie's Nipple and Squaw Valley. Squaw pass was up at the top near Mt. Evans the highest peak in Colorado and had wonderful twisties for much of its length, a tad less than ten thousand feet in height. I always think of a quote from the John McFee  from Basin and Range. “Basin and Range, Basin and Range, A mile in height between Basin and Range”. All you need to know to find your way around the Western United States.

From there, as the early evening started its approach we headed to Prospect Park and the meal provided by BMW of Denver and the drawing for prizes. David K was behind us, and elected to head back to his hotel and did not stop at the dinner.

I would certainly consider doing this ride again, and supposedly they vary it slightly for year to year.

The next day we returned on highway 40 the whole way to the Wasatch front so that I could meet my newest Grandson. I ended up from Thursday to Sunday riding almost 1,800 miles.

Friday, November 23, 2018

The Next of Kin to The Wayward Wind

The Next of Kin to the Wayward Wind

I was telling my sister Kathy in response to an article on a backpacking trip she wrote for the Fresno Bar Newsletter, that when I was a little boy I thought that the wind spoke to everyone, and it was only as I got older that I discovered that was not the case. The wind has and still does speak to me, it is one of the things I love about my long motorcycle treks around the West. Its sound is muted between the ear plugs I wear, the buffer of the helmet and the blue tooth music, radar and GPS but none the less it is there.

We took a lot of car trips as a family in the 1950's and early 60's with all of us piled into a massive station wagon, and much later a VW Micro Bus, we were a lot smaller then, but none of these vehicles had air conditioning and I remember a massive burlap canteen strapped to the front for drinking water. All of us still have world class bladders, for you can imagine the lack of progress with 8 people in a car if rest stops were not well planned in advance. In the summers of 1958 and 1960 we spent the whole summer traveling by car throughout Mexico and we drove all the way to Yucatan where in some areas, the road was not only not paved, it didn't actually exist and I have a fond memory of our then white Station wagon crossing a river on a crude ferry made up of a couple of row boats with planks for the car. Also on that same trip the gas tank fell off in the middle of the Jungle and the car had to be towed hundreds of miles to where it could be refastened to the car. In 1967 my Parents took my two younger sisters and me to Europe for the summer and I did all the driving throughout England, Scotland, France, Switzerland, Italy, the ferry to Corfu and then to Greece where we left the car and took a cruise to several Greek Islands. And then returned to France and the flight home. My sister Julie who was studying in Europe was with us as well and she chastises me to this day for staying in the car to talk with my father rather than to go in to see the Bayeux Tapestry. I knew I would have another chance to see it in my life and also knew I would not always be able to talk with my father Bob. We grew up calling both parents by their name, it was something my father Bob insisted on, although we did lapse with my Mother and she was both Mother and Louise. Seven years later Bob died in my arms and I did go back to see the tapestry, after I had read Churchill's “History of the English Speaking Peoples.”

My father from his business of building Power transmission lines around the West had an encyclopedic knowledge of roads in the West and laid out for all of us how mountain passes differed from State to State.

It has been almost a year since my awesome fast BMW S1000RR was totaled when a woman who was late picking up her children at school turned in front of me with no time to stop and totaled the bike. Eighteen days later, still black and blue all over from the accident I replaced it with a less extreme BMW and in that time period mainly over 7 weekends long and otherwise, I have put over ten thousand miles on it. It is a wonderful and comfortable touring bike and while it is not a breathtakingly fast as the RR, few bikes are, it handles extremely well and almost brakes as well and is more suited to long trips. I now ride with a Helite air bag vest, and all the gear all the time and so over the last year I have tended to ride my bike less day to day and instead have focused on out of town trips. I don't feel comfortable not being in full riding gear no matter how short the ride.

I ended up riding this year to five BMW rallies around the West in five Different States, and to Long Beach for the motorcycle show, years ago it would have been possible to spend every weekend going to a BMW rally somewhere in the country, but as baby boomers and motorcycle riders are aging, the numbers are lower and in the next five years I suspect more and more rallies will disappear because there aren't enough people attending to cover the cost of putting it on. Most of these rallies I went to I have previously attended, but not for many years.

For only one of the rallies did I ride to it alone, and even that at that rally I knew I would see friends once I got there. I also rode with new people and there is a learning process when riding with new people and you quickly learn the shorthand of how they organize their riding in the morning and how often if at all they like to stop for myriad reasons. I try to be an easy person to ride with and really over the decades have not had too many complaints and no one has refused to ride with me a second time.

Chief Joseph Rally in John Day Oregon.

I have been to the Chief Joseph several times over the years but never since they moved it to John Day. I rode alone and this rally has the most Interstate miles and although you can make good time on the Slab, it isn't always the most challenging way to get to a rally or anywhere, and only after I left I84 and go into Oregon itself was I on secondary roads with corners that actively call for being at one with the bike. Numbers wise, the Chief Joseph was the largest rally I attended and while there I upgraded my Sena Helmet Blue tooth device to a new model and got an adapter to convert the output from my Valentine Radar detector to direct noise in my helmet. I rode the little over 500 plus miles back from John Day in one day and in time to pick up my Great Pyrenees at the kennel. This season I spent more on boarding her at the kennel over these weekends than I did on gas.

Top of the Rockies

The Top of the Rockies has been in Paonia Colorado since 1989, I attended that first year and for years I went to this rally every year, but had not attended the rally in Paonia for at least twelve to fourteen years, On the spur of the moment or almost, I decided to go with my long time riding friend DeVern, it had been years since he went as well. We met in Kamas Utah , he lives near Logan Utah, and after a brisk ride over Wolf Creek we finally go onto highway 40 for the ride to Vernal and eventually Rangeley Colorado, where we turns South over Douglas Pass to get down to Grand Junction. Earlier this summer DeVern rode an R100GS he had purchased well past the Article Circle and all the way to the coast of the Arctic Ocean and back.  On this trip he was on his K1300GT and it was well over 105degrees by the time we got to Grand Junction. We then headed for the ride over Grand Mesa so that so far very little of this ride was on the Slab. For some strange reason, his bike started to overheat and we ended up once we got to Paonia, in pulling off the fairing adding some coolant and even then the bike continued to overheat. Since then DeVern removed and flushed the radiator, and checked the valves and it appears to be fine now. The rally was smaller than the last time I attended and I would certainly consider go back next year. While there we met a man who was born and raised in Salt Lake but has lived most of his adult life on the East Coast and now resides in Gunnison Colorado. I suggested to David that he may want to go to the Stanley Stomp and some other rallies and he did. He also ended up riding with me from Salt Lake City to the Beemer Bash in Quincy in September.
Stanley Stomp

This is the third year in a row that I have attended the Stanley Stomp in Gran Jean Idaho, a destination rally, off the grid where they feed you well each day and on Saturday night there is a feast of Steak, bake potato, corn on the cob and various other sundries. I went for many years at the previous site. There are hot springs in all this area and there is also a pool at the small lodge at Grand-Jean, which is at the end of about a seven mile dirt road. The lodge has a generator for power, but you are completely off the grid. As usual I had a nice time. DeVern's father in law died a few days before so he was not able to attend, but I rode up with Alberto who had never been up in that direction and we ended up stopping at EBR1, the site of the first nuclear reactor to generate electricity. My father's company did the transmission wiring from the EBR1 to Atomic City and most of his Crew had stayed around Arco during the construction. It was fun stopping again and also riding up with someone new to the area. The control room of the reactor looks like something out of an early 50's science fiction movie. We turned off at Arco and headed towards Craters of the Moon which does indeed have an other world look to it. The traffic was fairly heavy the closer we got to Sun Valley but was not too bad going over the pass and we stopped briefly in Stanley before heading to Grand Jean. My friend David from Gunnison was there for part of the rally, he had to leave early and fly out of Boise for a meeting somewhere and informed me that he would be heading to the Beartooth rally the next weekend and I told him I would see him there.
Bear tooth Rally

I haven't been to the Beartooth rally, which is held near Red Lodge Montana and gives you the opportunity of riding over the Beartooth Pass since 2014. I rode up with DeVern who we met in Logan and my longtime friend John Merrick and we purposely rode as little freeway as possible, at least once we turned off from I-15 at Brigham City for the ride over Sardine Canyon to Logan. I had a chance with both of them to ride some passes and ride through some towns that 15 or 20 years ago I use to visit almost every summer. At West Yellowstone we entered the park and there were places in the park where the traffic was horrendous and we were worried about getting to the rally before they stopped serving dinner for Thursday night. There was construction on the Beartooth and we had to wait a few minutes waiting for a pilot car. The ride of the balance of the Pass was spirited to say the least and there were still snow fields to the side of the road at the summit, and we ended up getting there about fifteen minutes after they stop serving dinner, but they did have some still fairly warm leftovers and since we were staying in cabins instead of tenting, we could relax for the rest of the evening. The next day we rode into Red Lodge and then to Absaroka where we we stopped for Coffee and internet access and then returned back to the rally site later in the day. It rained for much of the day on Saturday and John Merrick decided to go back a different way so it was just DeVern and me who rode back over the Bear tooth pass on Sunday morning and back through the park. We arrived at West Yellowstone just after Twelve noon and I was home by around 5PM, but most of the ride back was on I-15

Beemer Bash

The last time I attended the Beemer Bash in Quincy California was 2009. My new friend David was in town for his 50th High School reunion and we had arranged to meet up on a Thursday morning for a ride to Fallon Nevada. The first part of the ride was the slab to Wendover, where after gassing up we headed South on 93A to Ely Nevada where we would pick up Highway 50 for the ride to Fallon. I have ridden 93A probably 25 to 30 times over the last 40+ years but still enjoy it. We stopped for a late lunch in Austin Nevada and in Fallon we met up with my friend Jan Peterson who had ridden a different route for part of the ride from Logan. Friday morning after breakfast we headed towards Reno and the Truckee Turn off for secondary roads up through the forest primeval to Quincy. David was heading towards Tonopah on Sunday morning and eventually visiting family in the St George area so after he turned off it was just Jan and me on I-80 East Bound. I ended up riding back to Salt Lake in one day on the slab a total of about 598 miles. The Beemer Bash was substantially smaller than in 2009 and its future are in doubt, last year the club that put it on, lost money doing it and if they didn't break even this year, were seriously considering dropping the rally. This is going to start happening more and more as riders cease going to rally's and are not being replaced with younger people. Thirty years ago, when I first started going to BMW rallies, the people who took me where a tad younger than I am now and I was in my mid to late thirties. I know no motorcycle riding people to take to a rally that are in their thirties at all.

Long Beach Motorcycle Show

Two years ago DeVern and I rode down to Long Beach California for the Motorcycle Show and a Long distance riding community meet at Pink's Hot Dogs on LaBrea Avenue and we decided to go again. It was Freeway till we got to Mesquite on I-15 and was cold enough on Thursday morning that we both had our heated gear on. On getting up Friday morning it was warm enough that we jettisoned the warm gear and a few miles South on I-15 we turned off of I-15 for Overton, Valley of Fire and eventually Lake Mead Boulevard to Henderson, so we were able to avoid Los Vegas completely. The ride through the Mojave Desert from here to just west of Palm Springs was on Secondary roads and we decided Saturday that we would return the same way. The dryness and emptiness on the horizon was mesmerizing, my favorite type of riding and we went long distances with almost no traffic, We had to wait for a train to pass at Kelso Junction and then after the deserted town of Amboy, we turned towards Twenty NinePalms and West from there we hit the maelstrom of California traffic. We stopped briefly in TwentyninePalms for a snack and a few miles down the road from there, one of DeVern's saddlebags opened up and the contents hit the road. I stopped as quickly and safely as I could and was able to retrieve his bag liner and all of his things. I have barely secured them to my bike, when he returned, after having to hunt for a place to turn around on the divided highway. Later on we got separated in traffic, it was late afternoon and he was more daring in lane splitting in heavy traffic that I was, and somehow I ended up getting to the Motel before he did by about 5 minutes or so. We spent most of Saturday at the Long Beach Motorcycle Show and saw many new models of bikes. It is so refreshing to see all ages of people and families at the show, instead of the over 60 and mostly male people that I see at BMW rallies and the Utah BMW club activities. We didn't go to Long Beach last year and at this year's get together at Pink's there were 54 riders from all over the US. About 23 were on various BMW's and there was one other person I had not met from Utah that was on a hybrid 3 wheel Honda. We retraced our route back to Twenty Nine Palms, Amboy, Kelso junction etc. A few miles West of Searchlight Nevada, Nevada Power has three giant towers that are actually solar converters for power generation they look like something out of either Star Wars or Close encounters of the third kind and I kept hearing the musical refrain from Close Encounters. We got to Mesquite around 5pm , staying at the same hotel we had stayed on Thursday night. The rest of the ride home on Monday would be interstate and it was a little colder than the ride down on Thursday had been. That will probably be the last trip for me this season. We have discussed going to Death Valley for a get together in February, but depending on the weather we may end up loading the bikes on DeVern's trailer to Mesquite and then off loading them there for the weekend. We have also started looking a motorcycle trips in other parts of the world and talked to a touring company that is doing a 42 day tour in 2020 from Central America all the way to Patagonia. I would need to purchase an off road bike to do it, but if I am healthy enough in two years, I am sorely tempted. Motorcycle guided tours all over the world are a growth industry with lots of different tour company. DeVern and his wife went on one in September to Eastern Europe and we have talked about doing one in the Alps, South America and even Viet Nam. I would also like to do one in Greece and in France.


Friday, March 16, 2018

Catenary Curve

Since my last posting in September 2017, several things have happened. On the afternoon of October 24th. in anticipation of going on a much longer ride the next day, I decided to ride my S1000RR to a service station not far away and to fuel up for the next day's ride. I had been going on mid week rides to ride the various mountain passes that would soon be closed for the season. There is a lot of construction going on down the road from my house, and the road was closed so I headed North on a country lane that then turns East, crosses the Jordan River and then at the next major intersection allows me to go North or South. I noticed a fair amount of oncoming traffic so I did not increase my speed after crossing the bridge over the Jordan river. There were a fair amount of vehicles turning into a charter school. I got about 25 feet before the driveway to the charter school and a woman suddenly turned in front of me in a big SUV and I had neither time or distance to stop. Luckily, I did not go over the hood of her SUV and instead went to the side and was almost immediately up. My bike had hit between her front fender and the quarter panel near the passenger door. I knew nothing was broken and that I would be very sore the next day. After checking that she was okay, I asked an onlooker to call the Police and sat down on the curb. I had a cut on my right hand, and got up and grabbed the small medical kit I carry in my tail bag. I also took off my helmet, knowing that my neck was fine. The police came and also the Paramedics. They took my blood pressure, listened to my heart and offered to take me to a hospital. I told them there was no need that I could see. A tow truck had been called for both my bike and her SUV. Insurance information was exchanged and I called my insurance company to report the accident and notified my family of the accident and that I was okay. A kind woman at the school, the headmistress I was later told, offered to drive me back to my house which was less than two miles away.

I later went online and found out that the other driver had been cited for failure to yield. At first I was not sure how bad the bike had been damaged, but it didn't take long for the insurance company to total it. They did let me remove the after market exhaust and heated seat. That first night I really started to hurt all over and got a little worried that I might be bleeding internally, so the next morning I ended up going to the Emergency room of a major area hospital. I was black and blue everywhere and that continued for the next couple of weeks, but there was no internal damage or bleeding.

At first I thought that I would wait to replace the bike till next spring, that I would consider buying my bike and having the repairs done by someone qualified or that I would immediately replace the bike with another S1000RR. The dealer were going to make me a very attractive offer on a brand new 17 model because they were just starting to receive the 18 models and there were no major changes. There will be major changes with the 2019 model. After several weeks I decided to test ride a couple of other models at the BMW dealer and even thought about buying a used MV Augusta that I saw at a repair shop. The S1000RR is an incredible bike, but after putting on 22,000 Miles and having replaced one chain and had an expensive 18,000 mile check up, I realized that I didn't need and never really used all that power and the insurance premium on the bike was incredible. I ended up purchasing a 2016 R1200RS with a little over a thousand miles on it, that someone had traded in after owning it and never really riding it . While it is not quite as fast at the RR, it handles very well and really is a beautiful and well appointed bike with all the bells and whistles. I have put over a thousand miles on it since I got it in Mid November and will be taking my first trip in the next couple of weeks. It came with hard bags and I have added a nice Tank Bag and it came with a factory mounted GPS. While it will not do 0 to 180 in eighteen seconds like the RR, it will certainly do zero to 140 or fifty in a respectable amount of time should I choose to do that. It also has ESA suspension , clutch less shifting and cruise control and key less ignition.

The insurance is a lot less and I took the savings on the insurance and purchased a Helite Air Bag Vest.
It has a lanyard that hooks on to the vest and the bike and if I were to go off the bike , the vest would inflate and protect my head , neck and backbone from damage. A friend of mine from the BMW club was in an accident about a month after mine, and ended up dying a month later. He had been President of the BMW club and it was a blow to everyone who knew him.

My sister who lives in Fresno and who I rode down to visit on the 1000RR in September flew up for the weekend to visit me and her two sisters who live in Salt Lake. At dinner on that Saturday day night in response to a conversation regarding a niece's current job, my sister divulged a remembrance from childhood that I did not know. . She is about eight years older than me. My father Bob until about mid 1957 had been a power line contractor and built transmission lines all over the Western United States. Kathy recalled road trips during this period when Bob would comment that on this or that power line that we were driving by they either had or had not got the Catenary Curve or the dangle of the line correct. Being much younger I did not remember this. I do remember playing at the yard where his neat equipment was kept, he had half-tracks and big trucks and the symbol on his trucks was a bolt of lightning . Bob died almost 44 years ago and yes we grew up calling our father by his first name he insisted on it and most of my childhood friends have told me that my father was the first adult they called by name.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

The Great Basin

Since I was unable to make this year's BMW 49er Rally in Mariposa because of snow in the Sierra's I decided a couple of weeks ago that I wanted to make a ride across The Great Basin through Nevada to Tonopah and then onto Lee Vining and then over Tioga Pass into Yosemite and then on to Fresno California to visit my sister Kathy. After checking with her that she would be home and would welcome a visit, I picked my weekend. I actually rode this same route last year, except I ended up at the 49er Rally in Mariposa and I rode with friends. I have ridden this route many times and up to about five or six years ago I was till riding the 767 miles from Salt Lake to Fresno in one day. The last few years and indeed last year, I rode from Salt Lake to Tonopah, spent the night there and then the rest of the way the next morning and partial afternoon.

I left on Thursday morning and made the somewhat boring Interstate ride on I-80 from Salt Lake to Wendover Utah where I then turned off on highway 93A. After gassing up in Wendover it was nice to be on a two lane road with little traffic. I looked for wild horses on White Horse pass, but was not lucky enough to see any this year. Just before I got to the junction point between 93A and the main Highway93 there was a sign about road construction. They were chip sealing the road, and also for a distance of several miles there was a pilot car, there ended up being two pilot cars on the ride to Tonopah on this Thursday. After the pilot car , I picked up speed, passed the several cars ahead of me and then proceeded for the rest of the ride to Ely, my next gas stop. After gassing up in Ely, I turned onto Highway 6, one of my favorite roads and the 167 mile ride to Tonopah. At this juncture I was all ready 240 or so miles from home. I have developed a habit of oiling the chain at every other gas stop on a trip. Highway 6 runs roughly 20 to 30 Miles South of the Route that the Trapper and Explorer Jedediah Smith took in the late 1820's when he was the first White person to walk from California through the Great Basin to Utah. Hard to imagine what I pass through in a couple of hours taking days and days and not knowing if and where you would find water and other sustenance.

I have always considered the Great Basin to be my backyard and as I looked forward to playing in my back yard and the enumerable Mountain ranges on either side of me for as far as you can see on the horizon. There is something about the vast emptiness of this landscape and the tenacity with which the flora and fauna of the area cling to life that is thrilling to this other wise secular soul. In the 167 mile ride I see about 4 cars heading the opposite direct and pass about 3 cars. I carried a gallon of extra gas with me, because I have been traveling about 85 to 90, but the bike makes no tell tale notion of running out of gas, even though the computer tells me I have zero miles left. I have ridden my S1000rr a little over two hundred miles on a single tank of gas, but that was at a constant 80 mph for almost the whole way and included heading down the Virgin River Gorge to Mesquite. After filing up my bike, and checking in to the Motel for the night, I head up back up into the center of town of Tonopah and have a quick dinner at a Mexican Restaurant and settle in for the night.

I had planned on having the continental breakfast at the motel the next morning, but they were not ready or open by the time I was ready to leave and since I was burning daylight, I opted to hit the open road for the ride to the California State border and to pick up highway 120 at Benton and the roller coaster road and ride to Lee Vining. Lee Vining always has the most expensive gas on almost any ride I take and at over $4.59 a gallon is certainly did not disappoint . I had a nice breakfast at Nicely's cafe, where I have eaten many times and headed East the couple of miles to the turn off for Tioga Pass and Yosemite.

Tioga this year did not open up till after the first of July and it seemed like the end of the season and certain services never opened up this year. The traffic was not particularly bad, but the lower I got and the closer I got to El Portal, the more smoky it became. I normally at Mariposa, turn to take highway 41 to Oakhurst and then on to Fresno, but that road was closed and I kept going to Merced and then got onto highway 99 for the ride to Fresno and my sisters house. Highway 99 has always seemed like an overused but unloved thoroughfare to me, it really hasn't changed much over the last 40 some years I have been riding it in one direction or another. I have owned 7 BMW's over the last 41 years and I have ridden each of them to my sisters house in Fresno at some time or another for a visit.

I had a nice visit with my sister, met her newest granddaughter and saw all of her daughter's but one. I left early Sunday morning, and the road from Oakhurst to Mariposa, had opened on Saturday afternoon so I headed that way rather than returning to Merced and then up the hill. The closer I got to El Portal and the entrance to Yosemite, the more traffic there was and it ended up being almost bumper to bumper traffic till I was in the Park and made the to get back to Crane Flat and the turnoff going the other way to Tioga. Once I got to Crane Flat there was much less traffic and I made decent time through Tioga to the gate and then the ride down the spectacular pass to again Lee Vining, where I once again filled up the bike with expensive gas.

By the time I got back to Tonopah on Sunday it was a little after 1pm and I had all ready decided that I would at least ride to Ely, which would leave me a mere 240 Mile ride on Monday morning to get home. After checking in to a motel in Ely, my plan was to change out of my riding gear, and walk to the nearest restaurant for dinner, what I ended up doing was lying down to have a quick nap and instead I fell asleep and never did have anything to eat. I have always preferred riding a little hungry. I did have some juice and a sweet roll the next morning before leaving Ely.

I left Ely the next morning for the ride back on Highway 93 and 93A to Wendover and then the sprint ride from there to Salt Lake City and was home by 11:00 am on Monday the 11th. It had ended up being a ride of a little more than 1,534 miles.

I may end up doing an additional ride somewhere before the season formally ends, and probably by the time I take the next ride, I will be using some of my heated gear and will have also turned on my heated seat. Last Year in November I rode to Long Beach and the Motorcycle show with a friend and we met some other Long Distance Motorcycle rider's, at Pink's Hot Dogs in Hollywood, my friend has ridden the Iron Butt several times and this year did the Three Flag's Rally in his sidecar rig with his wife.

Friday, December 23, 2016

2016 Rides

In 2016, in addition to my Sunday morning rides, for the most part with my sister and brother in law, in a different canyon each week and a good hearty breakfast, I did go on three trips. In years past I used to go on a lot more trips and although my current bike a BMW S1000rr is not a touring bike in any sense of the word, it did just fine and although I am unable to pack as much as I could on previous bikes, I had what I needed. The first trip in April I rode down to Mexican Hat via highway 6 and then on to Hanksville, and highway 95 and after the turn off I rode the Mokie Dug-way down to Mexican Hat where I spent the next two days. On Saturday, I spent the windy day, touring Monument Valley. I took a tour in a jeep with a family from Israel, and finally after the guide telling us the names of all the formations in Monument Valley, I asked him what they were called in Navajo, and after that he would tell us the Indian name as well, I think he enjoyed that. I was very windy and tough with contact lenses. I had a hearty meal at the San Juan Inn that evening left the next morning for the ride back to the Wasatch Front. Very little traffic on Highway 95 and I went very fast by anyone's standards on several sections of the road.
My second trip of the season was to the 49er Rally in Mariposa California over the Memorial Day weekend, I went with my good friend DeVern and his wife Cathy. They have a side-car rig and over the last couple of years they have done a fair amount of traveling and participated in the 2015 Three Flag's rally. We met Wednesday morning on the on-ramp near my house and proceeded West on I-80 to Wendover where we got off of the slab and rode towards Ely Nevada on 93A. They can run about 75-80 and still get decent mileage so I just tucked in behind them and enjoyed the scenery. At Ely, we gassed up, had a snack and proceeded on one of my favorite roads in Nevada, Highway 6 towards Tonopah and our days end. It is a 167 mile stretch with very little traffic and mountains, mountains, mountains, wherever you look. This part of the Great Basin is after Afghanistan the second most mountainous area in the world, with peaks that have still probably not been climbed. I find something new each and every time I have ridden this road. We had reservations for the night at Tonopah Station. After a breakfast the next morning at Tonopah Station, we continued West on Highway 6 till we turned off towards Benton Station and the California border. From there is the roller coaster road to Lee Vining, where before turning off for the ride through Yosemite Park, we had a lunch at Nicely's Cafe which has been around since about 1954.
I have ridden from Lee Vining through Yosemite countless times on every BMW motorcycle I have owned, it never gets old and the scenery is all ways breath taking. This was on a Thursday and the holiday traffic was not bad and it didn't take all that long until we were fast approaching the fairground in Mariposa and the site of the 49er Rally. This rally was the first BMW rally I ever attended back in 1989 and its site was Mariposa back then. It has always been one of my favorite rally sites. The crowd was lot grayer than the last time I attended a rally and somewhat smaller but I did have a nice time. My sister who lives in Fresno and is an attorney drove up after appearing in court in Merced, abut 45 miles away and we had lunch the next day. On Saturday we road up into the mountains and had lunch and then I didn't ride my bike again till early Monday morning as we left for the ride back through the park. Thankfully most of the traffic was going out of instead of into the park. We again ate at Nicely's and instead of spending the night in Tonopah again, we road back across the Great Basin to Ely Nevada. It was nice to go to a familiar rally and to be out on the open road .
In August, again with DeVern, but not Cathy, I met DeVern at the Utah Idaho boarder off of I-15 on the ride to around Stanley Idaho and this year's Stanley Stomp. I have been to this rally many times, but this was the first at this location and the first one in many years. The resort where it was held is at the end of a seven mile dirt road. The Stanley Stomp is noted for its good food and coupled with a spring fed hot swimming pool and hot springs at the side of the river, it was a nice and relaxing time. We stopped in McKay Idaho on Sunday morning for breakfast, which took forever, and had a windy hot ride all the way back to Zion.
On November 18th I met DeVern at BMW of Utah , for a ride to Victorville California. We had a quick ride through the Virgin River gorge , and I made it to Mesquite, on even less than fumes, the computer showed no miles left in the tank, but it did not sputter. After putting more gas in the tank than I ever have before, even more than it supposedly holds, and after a brief lunch, we started the ride to Las Vegas and the worst traffic you could imagine, it took us 45 minutes in Vegas traffic to go less than about 25 miles, We ended up getting to Victorville, with gaining an hour with pacific time, a little after 8 pm and the room at the La Quinta inn was a welcome site. We had tickets to the Long Beach Motorcycle show on Saturday and also a commitment, and the reason for the trip, at Pink's Hot Dog emporium for 10pm Saturday evening and an annual get together of Long distance riders. I had never been to a motorcycle show and it was slightly over whelming with not only all the vendors but the mass of people. We parked in about a 4 acres parking lot completely filled with motorcycles of every make and description. After that we rode back to Victorville, a mistake and a chance to rest, before heading back to the Los Angeles basin for the get together at Pink's . During these jaunts around LA, we did our share of lane splitting and although I picked up the hang of it, I always was a little daunted by it, which was probably a good thing.
I did not know any of the people we met a Pink's, DeVern from DeVern's long distance riding and several Iron Butt's, about 38 people showed up ,and after having a famous Pink's Hot dog, smothered in chili, and a Lemonade, after DeVern said his good bye's we started the ride back to Victorville, We arrived at the La Quinta about 1 am in the morning and were on the road for the ride back to Salt Lake by 8 am.
DeVern is an easy person to travel with; I hope he says the same about me, and after 27 years we have ridden thousand of miles together. The tank on his K1300GT is larger than on my bike, but he was very good about filing up on my timetable rather than his. It got cold, once we were in Utah on that Sunday morning and I was glad to have my heated gear, seat and heated grips.
I am pleased with the bike and its touring potential and have a lot more trips planned for 2017. I purchased some Hebco Becker hard bags for the bike, and also to accommodate the bag on the exhaust side, I purchased a new exhaust system and up graded the lighting on the bike by buying LED lights for all the turn indicators. I can't wait to take my first trip next spring.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

An Old Man's BMW

A lot has happened since my last posting, after coming home from the BMW Rally in New Mexico.
About a week after my return, on my way home from the Beehive Beemers club breakfast, after coming over Trapper's loop, my bike all of a sudden started running poorly and would not idle. I thought that maybe it was because I was possibly low on fuel, the light had come on and also I knew that the spark plugs were old. I stopped at a Chevron Station on highway 89 and it was really hard to get the bike to start again. Needless to say, I spent the next couple of weeks trying to figure out why the bike was running so poorly, replaced the spark plugs, bought a bunch of diagnosis equipment, cleaned my K&N air filter and even bought new cap coils, after reading on line that it could be part of the problem. Finally on a ride home in mid October, about two miles from home, the engine made a big pop and there was a solid oil sheen coming out of the exhaust. I decided to ride the bike as far as I could and was able to get to my front gate, before, having to stop to open the gate, I was unable to keep it running or to get it started again and had to push my bike the half mile or so to the garage where I park it. For the first time with any motorcycle, it appeared that I had a major engine problem.

Over the next little bit, I determined that it was one cylinder causing the problem and my the time I tore the engine apart, I determined that the bike had sucked an intake valve on the right side and done major damage to that piston. I decided I would take the bike apart and once I got to the technical part , I would have someone else actually put new valves in a new head and do the piston work etc. This was going to be my winter project and I was not in any hurry to get it done, just wanted to get it done right.

In late December I caught cold and nothing I did, seemed to get me over the cold. I finally went to the Doctor's in early January, and he put me on some antibiotics to kill whatever I had, but after the first round of those, it made no difference. I didn't feel well, was tired all the time and was loosing weight.
We tried another round of antibiotics, some even stronger ones, and that made no difference. Needless to say, the last thing I wanted to do was to spend hours in a cold shop, taking a motorcycle apart.
My Doctor got me an appointment in several weeks to see a lung expert, but I questioned whether I could last that long and finally went to an emergency medical clinic and the observant Doctor there within 5 minutes figured out it was a heart issue and not a lung issue.

In the next several weeks after that I had every heart test you can thing of and even had angioplasty again and was sad to find out that the stents I had in 2005 had become all clogged up and I have some fairly major heart issues to deal with from now on.

Even before all the tests were in , I knew I did not have the energy to deal with a broken motorcycle and started to look at my options, and I even questioned whether it was time to put my helmet away for good. I found a place that would give me X for the bike as it sat, and at the same time I put an ad on the Internet BMW riders forum and ended up selling the bike as is to a man in Kansas, who has the know how and time to rebuild it.

I am feeling much better now, thanks to modern medicine and ace inhibitors and beta blockers etc. and decided in late April that I did feel well enough to think about another bike. Even before then I had been lusting after a new BMW S1000rr and I ended up ordering one and picking it up on the 20th of May. It is the sportiest BMW I have ever owned and the fastest by far. With almost two hundred horsepower, 450 lbs and clutch less shifting both up and down it is incredible to ride.

So far I have only ventured on rides in the surrounding canyons, but if I continue to feel well, I may plan a getaway to either Southern Utah or somewhere North. Its nice to have a new cutting edge bike to ride. I am also going to take a refresher riding course from the Motorcycle Safety foundation. In my fuelly account for the new bike, where I store my gas stops, and keep track of my mileage, I have named this new bike Lord Acton, because absolute power corrupts.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

From Cell service at the Little Bighorn to the Festival at Santa Fe.

For many reasons it has been four to five years since I last went to a BMW Motorcycle rally somewhere in the continental United States. I decided earlier this summer that I would try and make at lease two rallies in 2014 and I did. This is a far cry from a decade or so ago when I would routinely go to four to six rallies each summer, starting with the 49'ER in California and usually ending up with either the New Mexico rally the weekend after Labor day or the Autumn Beemer bash somewhere in California the second or third week of September. In 2004, I went from the New Mexico Rally at Sipapu one weekend to the Beemer Bash in Mariposa California the next week. I doubt I will ever do back to back weekend rallies again. I remember I got home from Sipapu on a Sunday evening. Went to work the next couple of days and left Thursday morning for the ride across the Great Basin to Mariposa and returned the following Sunday night. It ended up being somewhere between 2,500 and 2,800 hundred miles in those two weeks. That is of course, a far cry from what I am thinking about doing next spring sometime, which is to try and ride the Iron Butt Association's 10-48 where I would ride through 48 states in 10 days. That would be well over 8,000+ miles.

The two rallies I ultimately decided to attend this year were the Bear Tooth Rally near Red Lodge Montana and the Sipapu Bavarian Mountain Weekend near Taos. It would mark about my fourth time attending the Bear Tooth and my 10th or 11th time attending the Sipapu rally.

The Bear Tooth Rally started August 14th. I asked my sister Valerie and her husband Larry if they wanted to go with me, and while Valerie bowed out, Larry said he would like to go. It would be his first motorcycle rally. We left Thursday morning and proceeded to spend most of the morning on the Interstate riding North until we turned off of it for the ride to Island Park where we had lunch. After that it was a short ride to West Yellowstone where we both bought our geezer passes for National Parks, an incredible deal at $10 a forever pass to get you into any National Park. Just as we pulled through the gates of the Park, the promenade from “Pictures at an Exhibition” started playing on my I pod. What a beginning for the ride through the park to its exit at Cook City Montana. From there is was a short ride to the beginning of the Bear Tooth Pass. Larry found the pass a little over whelming with its decreasing radius turns and I slowed down several times for him to catch up to me. The site of the rally is an Old Boys Camp that is currently used during the summer for outings for Special Needs Children. Rather than camp we had elected to pay an additional $10 a night to have a bunk in one of the many cabins that dot the hillside.

The next morning we rode via another road to Cody Wyoming and spend a couple of hours, far to brief a time at the Buffalo Bill Center for the American West. We only ended up getting to go through two of the wings of the museum and I plan on going back and doing two more. Our original plan was to ride back towards Red Lodge, but to turn off and take the Chief Joseph Highway to where it meets the beginning of the Bear Tooth so that Larry could ride it again, and we agreed we would stop so he could take some pictures. There are some incredible views from the Bear-tooth . When we were about 20 or some miles from this junction , it started to look pretty black and bleak on the pass , and we decided to turn back. We hit a brisk rain on this return ride and by the time we got back to the original junction , I was low on gas and had to actually ride in to Cody again to fill up.

I have always wanted to visit the Little Bighorn Battlefield and it is only about 120 to 130 miles from Red Lodge. We mentioned our intention of going there on Saturday to the other person in the bunk and he asked if he could ride with us. His name is Paul and he has houses in both Colorado Springs and in North Carolina and he spends his winters in his cutter rigged sail boat in the Caribbean. We left the next morning and had a nice ride to the Battlefield. It is very much like what I have read about and viewed in books, but somehow the fact that there is cell service at the battlefield and its only a couple of miles off an interstate exit, I found difficult to wrap my head around. We elected, on advice from an old fried of mine to take the Indian Bus tour of the battlefield. I felt the story that the guide told was very balanced, much more than if I had been telling it, I have always thought the Custer was a complete blow-hard and egoist. Because his Indian guides told him the truth, rather than what he wanted to hear, he and several hundred other men were slaughtered in a brief period of time by a large group of braves. The cemetery like all military cemeteries was peaceful, but most of the soldiers have long since been removed and reburied somewhere else with Custer's being at West Point.

On the return trip to Salt Lake , rather than going back through the park, we again rode to Cody and then from there to Mettesse, Thermopolis, Lander and then through historic South Pass and Atlantic City , which served as a crossroads from roughly 1828 to the coming of the rail road in 1869. It is the most gradual slope from east to west on the continental divide, and you almost had to cross it and it was only after that, that you realized you were now heading down a gentle slope. After Kemmer we ended up picking up the Interstate just before Evanston, but when we got to Echo, rather than heading towards I-80; construction meant one lane from Wanship to the junction with highway 40 to Heber City, we headed down Weber Canyon, turned off at Henefer and came over East Canyon into the Valley of the Great Salt Lake. It was a fitting way to end this trek filled with beautiful and historic places. I enjoyed thoroughly riding in some different environments and was looking forward to the ride to New Mexico .

My sister Valerie has been to the New Mexico BMW Bavarian Mountain weekend three times before and we have talked about going again, and while she did not accompany us to the Bear tooth, she did go with us to New Mexico. We actually left Wednesday afternoon and rode to Monticello, rather than doing the whole 625+ mile ride in one day, at least on the way down. Our typical Sunday morning ride runs roughly between 125 to 175 miles by the time we return home. We ended up having dinner in Moab and arrived in Monticello, on fumes and just at Sunset. The next morning, after a good breakfast at the Peace Tree Cafe, we proceeded to the Utah/Colorado boarder and wended our way towards Dove Creek and Cortez. Just before Cortez we took a short cut I have taken before, that lets you avoid the traffic on the main street of Cortez, there was some road construction on this route, and I am not sure that we save any time. Actually on this trip, we ran into a fair amount of construction but the delays did not amount to a great deal of time. After gassing up in Pagosa Springs, we turned South towards Chama. I mentioned to Valerie at the gas stop about Dulce and the Mud people and she had her daughter do a web search concerning that. Once you turn of the main road from Chama to Santa Fe, the road gets interesting, although much of Northern New Mexico has absolutely beautiful vistas and beautiful skies, and I noticed on this twisty and climbing road that the pass was over 10,000 feet. There was some gravel but all in all the air was crisp, there was very little traffic and after a little over 9 hours and 45 minutes of riding time from Salt Lake, we arrived in Taos and checked in to the motel we had reservations for. I have mentioned before, that as a child, we visited Taos and Santa Fe several times, my parents had friends that owned an ran an art gallery in Taos and life long friends that worked Los Alamos, I remember as a young kid, visiting Los Alamos when it was still a closed city and we had to go through Security and that my parents had to apply for the visit a month or so in advance. Even then, it was not as bad, as the security we sometimes now are subject to when we fly.

After checking in and relaxing for a while, we rode , with Val on the back of Larry's R1200RT up to the Sipapu Snow and Summer resort where the New Mexico BMW club has held this rally for 30 Years. I first when to the rally in 1994, which means I was at the 10th anniversary. The week before they had a fire at the main lodge building and part of it was blocked off and they put up a large outdoor tent for some of the rally activities. There was not much going on at the rally that did not really start until Friday and after riding back to Taos, we had a nice dinner at a restaurant close to where we were staying. Our plan was to go down to Santa Fe on Friday Morning. That weekend was when they have the annual Festival in Santa Fe, and every-time that Val has gone to Sipapu, we have gone down to Santa Fe and spent some time walking around, looking in shops and having a nice and fairly expensive lunch before heading back up towards Taos and Sipapu. We did all of those things, and Valerie and Larry decided to just head back to Taos, I elected to turn off from the main highway and to take a secondary road back to the Rally. I registered and got my pin and spent a few minutes talking with Paul, who we had shared a cabin with at the Bear tooth. He had actually volunteered to help at the rally in exchange for a free room Friday and Saturday night.

When I first started going to these BMW rallies it was about 25 years ago and I was in my late 30's. The people I rode with where for the most part in their late fifties. I have observed at both the Bear tooth Rally and Sipapu, that all you now see at these rallies are people from their 60's to 70's and I am not seeing younger people. This does not bode well for the continuation of these yearly events or for that matter for the motorcycle industry as a whole. I would like to think that I may purchase at least one more new BMW before I hang up my helmet and gear for good. Rally s that once had x number of people come every year are getting smaller and smaller, because people are either ceasing to ride, or dying off. Not camping or staying at a rally is a lot different than I am used to and after careful thought we decided instead of doing some day trips on Saturday around the area, we would start home the next day and if Valerie was up to it, we would ride all the way home on Saturday, if not, we would probably again stay in Monticello.

Valerie got her sea legs back and we ended up riding the 600+ miles back to Salt Lake. We rode back the same way we came, but somehow we lost her husband Larry, who made a wrong turn in Cortez and ended up almost to Shiprock before he stopped. We ended up getting back to Salt Lake a couple of hours before his return. As a joke, I bought him a map of the Western United States and a compass.

While I will still ride my bike both during the week and on our Sunday rides for at least a month or more, this is probably it for any distance rides. Next year I hope to do a few more rallies and to once again spend at least a couple of weeks during the summer in a tent.



Friday, November 22, 2013

“The Summer of his Years ”

I had planned to publish a paper I wrote on Kennedy in College, called “My Tarnished Camelot”, but I
have not been able to find it. I know I have seen it in the last five years. So instead, some thoughts

from November, 22, 1963 and the weekend that followed:


  To my Mother who was born in 1918 the pivotal event in her early life was not Pearl Harbor, by then she had graduated from college and been married almost 9 months, but instead was the year 1936 when she was 18 and of course the event was the abdication of the British throne by George the 8th (The Duke of Windsor,) over Wallace Simpson his future wife. To my mother it was the most romantic thing possible, and she told me she cried at the time, it was a visceral event for her. ( From my reading of history, it is a good thing for all of us that this shallow and vain man and was not the King of England and had any kind of British Bully pulpit prior to and during World War II.) She was 18 and in College at the University of Utah.
 To me a confirmed member of the baby boomer generation, the pivotal event in my life, is of course November 22, 1963 and the assassination of President John Fitzgerald Kennedy. That fall I had just started my first year of what we then called Junior High School and they now refer to as Middle School, at  Bryant Junior High School. I had just finished what was called first lunch and was just settling down in my Spanish Class, when I heard a loud uproar from other parts of the building. A few minutes later, although it seemed to be an eternity, an eternity with out knowing what was happening, remember there were no smart phones, no texts, email or twitter, and no one had entered the room from outside and said anything. I did notice that the teacher Miss Ohme seemed sad and removed, after awhile an announcement came on the classroom speaker and told us that the President had been killed and that school was ending. Normally we had a bus that took us back up the hill to the avenues, but no arrangement had been made to have the bus there, much earlier that day, so I started to walk up I street.
   I soon ran into my cousin through marriage Jon Roylance. His mother had recently married my Uncle Ranch Kimball, whose second wife Helen had died in 1962. Helen was my mother's only and older sister. We were not entirely quiet on the walk up the hill, but we did not spend very much time discussing the events of that day. At the corner of I street and 13th Avenue I said good bye to Jon and walked over to H street and on the corner my families home.
My mother was in tears and like most American's we spent the rest of Friday , Saturday , Sunday and the funeral Monday watching the television coverage. I will add at this point in time, that my family for whatever reason was an NBC family. My Aunt Pat Fontaine, one of my father's sisters, in the early sixties had been part of the cast  on the Today Show. . I watched almost religiously the nighty Huntley Brinkley report and although my father and I would watch Walter Cronkite on the 20th Century Series, we were not for the most part a CBS following family, other than for dramatic programs.
  There are so many poignant memories I have from that weekend, but they probably would not differ that much from most people, John John's salute, Caroline putting her hand under the flag to touch the coffin directly, A magnificent eulogy from Senator Mike Mansfield, “she took the ring from her finger and placed it in his hand”, Black Jack the riderless horse, The black watch bagpiper's, the demeanor of Charles De Gaulle, the outfit of Haile Selassie, the funeral cortege , people walking during various parts of the procession and the haunted figure  of Robert Kennedy. . And the throng's of people beyond a number I could understand, standing in line to walk by the coffin in the rotunda of the Capitol. With my father, Bob, I watched the first televised murder on Sunday of Lee Harvey Oswald by Jack Ruby and I can remember as if it was last week, Tom Pettit's comments, “He's been shot!, He's been Shot! , Lee Oswald has been shot!”
  Like many American's we purchased the “Torch Is Passed”, book on the Kennedy's, I remember when they came out reading Jim Bishop's book on Kennedy and I have read many times and still have the original family copy of William Manchester's ,”Death of a President.” Over the ensuing decades I have read every major biography of John F. Kennedy, a lot, but not all of the conspiracy theory books, and Norman Mailer's Pulitzer wining Oswald Tale and Vincent Lugosi’s “Reclaiming History.” Just recently I have watched the PBS special's devoted to JFK and Nova's investigation. And yes, I have watched Oliver Stone's JFK several times, although it make me mad each time I have seen it.

 I have never fully understood why a majority of American's still doubt that Lee Harvey Oswald was

a lone gunman and that Oswald acted alone. I suspect that it stems from the fact that how could some

one so regal in the good sense of the word, as John F. Kennedy was , be taken out by such a

non-entity. The scales just do not seem to balance in any way shape or form. Of course the fact that

Oswald was never able to explain his actions, has added to the question marks.

  If I have learned and come to understand anything from these countless book and biographies I have read, it is was what a compartmentalized person JFK was, how fragile for most of his life, his health was, how his friends tried to arrange things so that he was virtually never alone, I guess all those countless hours in the infirmary at Choate and the time he spent at the Mayo Clinic, took their toll, and that although Lee Harvey Oswald suffered from dyslexia, he was not stupid, in any sense of the word.I also can't forget Lee Harvey Oswald's mother Marguerite . And still feel sorry for his brother Robert who's life was for ever changed and who had done nothing wrong.
   I think about November 22nd. Each year, and with this being the 50th there has of course been much public discussion. I am not sure that this country has ever really gotten over the assassination of President Kennedy and although it was the first of a number of senseless murders, I always seem to link JFK, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King and RFK and finishing up with Kent State as being a line of horrible transgressions on our collective psyche . I remember saying to myself that I would be in my sixties when the 50th anniversary came around and it seemed a life time in the future. It has been a life time and in mostly good ways this country has changed a lot.
 Today's title comes from a song just after the Assassination, the recording I first heard was on the NBC program with David Frost, “That Was the Week That Was,” which was broadcast on November 23rd, 1963. and was sung by someone name Millicent Martin. The song was actually written by Connie Francis. I can still remember the whole song from memory. “Forget I can't, I still recall his eyes.”

Monday, November 11, 2013

With next week marking the 50th. Anniversary on the 22nd. Of the Assassination of John F. Kennedy. The watershed event of most baby boomers I thought I would share a sonnet I wrote in High School.

I plan next week to also share a paper I wrote about Kennedy from Prescott  College.


THE CARDINAL

The Cardinal in Red a complex man.

Drones across the grave his nasal tears.

Speaking the words distilled two thousand years.

Does as he always does the best he can.

Do you remember how it all began.

Our understanding flags there's no such plan.

And thus we've had commissions talks and books.

And tried to make an elegance of grief.

We've tried interpretations on for size,

But cried inside recalling boyish looks.

Though young, though old, its shaken our belief.

Forget we can't, I still recall his eyes.

Friday, April 19, 2013

"Long Days Journey into Light"

I have to admit that I have used this same title for an article I wrote several decades ago, about a Motorcycle ride to California for the Stinger, the monthly newsletter of the Beehive Beemers, BMW Motorcycle Club of Utah. I used to write articles fairly frequently and served as the editor of the newsletter for several stints.. The title of course is a re-phrasing of the Eugene O'Neill masterpiece, “Long Day's Journey Into Night, a play that I have seen several times, have on disc with Katherine Hepburn , Sir Ralph Richardson, a young Jason Robards and Dean Stockwell, and and have read several times. In an interview once O'Neill was quoted as saying “ Happiness, I will write about happiness if I ever see it.” I have always been partially drawn to that brooding Irish and Northern climate countenance, but equally drawn towards much of T. S. Eliot's poetry such as this line from Portrait of a Lady, :” I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world to be wonderful and youthful, after all.” Now back to the journey

This is the earliest in the year that I have ever ridden from Salt Lake City through the Great Basin, my great good keep, to California. In mid-March I flew down to Fresno for a week to assist my sister Kathy in preparing a HABEAS  petition on behalf of a death row inmate. We talked about me coming back to help her finish it up, but the difference in flying between buying the ticket two weeks in advance, rather than a month was a couple of hundred dollars and I told her I would ride my BMW instead

Originally, I was planning on leaving the morning of April 6th. But in looking at the weather, and in seeing that it would be Conference weekend for the LDS Church, and probable rain, I decided, on the spur of the moment to leave the afternoon of Thursday the 4th of April and my plan was to ride to Tonopah where I would spend the night. In the morning I rode Frontrunner to my office at Thanksgiving Point, did office type things for awhile and I caught the 12:16 train back to Salt Lake Central. On arriving home, I quickly loaded the bike, Saddlebags were practically packed for my anticipated Saturday departure and by about 1:45 in the afternoon I was heading West on I-80 and my turnoff at Wendover for highway 93A to Ely. It was a very windy day, don't know what it was on the Beaufort scale, but it was maybe a notch or two below the issuing of a high-wind warning between Salt Lake City and Wendover. So with new tires, new riding boots and fresh spark-plugs and the remains of the day before the candle that lights the sky would disappear on the horizon, I started the wend towards California. On a motorcycle trip, I am always like a small boy, gregarious and eager to experience everything going around me at the same time. Milking the day for all its worth.

I have written many times, about how much I love this type of desert riding, I always feel tucked in and look forward to the isolation, being surrounded by world class performer's on my i pod and the chance to let my mind go where it wants to go. I have long conversations in my head, with someone I have known as long as I can remember, which is back to when I was about two and a half years old. Most of my sisters have memories going back to about the same age, so it must be a genetic thing. The last time I rode almost this almost same route to California was in May of 2011, and I had opted to wear my lighter, but more stylish riding suit and did not take my heated jacket or gloves. This year I took both and wore my winter, heavier and not very flattering, but warm suit. I looked like a cross between the Michelin man and the Pillsbury dough boy. At Wendover, after gassing up, I turned the thermostat, for my jacket and gloves to almost the lowest setting and looked toward White Horse Pass and the unfolding of my afternoon jaunt. The first time I remember being on this road was when I was five or six and I went with my father to McGill Nevada. The mine was still open then, and my father's company had done some sort of electrical job there and he needed to go out for a brief meeting. My then good friend John Mooney went with us and we went out and back in a long day. I always think about that as I ride through McGill, it was much more robust 55 years ago than it is today.

At Ely, after gassing up again, I turned on to the Grand Army of the Republic Highway, what a nice sounding name, so much better than Bangerter Highway. This is of course, Highway 6 and I would be on it, till its junction with California Highway 395 at Bishop California.
As always I think about Jediah Smith and the other early explorer's of the American West and the Mountain Peaks in the distance, that may to this point in time, not have been climbed by anyone. The Great Basin at its most extreme. I thought as I rode along, the hum of the bike giving me an OMMM sound and whatever music was playing about the majesty of the Great American Desert. The little outposts along the way, where people have tried and usually failed to etch out a living and live a life. I pulled into Tonopah a little after 6:00 pm Pacific Daylight Savings time and got the last room at the Tonopah Motel where I have stayed a couple of times.

When I got up the next morning at O-dark thirty, there was ice on my bike and sheepskin cover for my seat. After gassing up at the Chevron in Tonopah, and eating a muffin and drinking some grapefruit juice, I have always preferred traveling, feeling a little hungry, I headed West out of Tonopah towards Boundary Peak and the California border just before Benton and then on to Bishop, Big Pine, Lone Pine and eventually the junction with 178 through Lake Isabella, which has some fairly sharp corners, listed 25mph turns, that I take at 35 or 40 and eventually towards its junction with Highway 99.

Highway 99, I have decided is an unloved major artery in the San Joaquin Valley of California. There are places that have new pavement, but much of it is I am sure the same road that I rode my BMW R90S on in the late 1970's on my way to Fresno. Instead of listing railway stops as Eliot did in a poem I go over from way-points on my GPS , Delano, Pixley, Tipton and Tulare, but can't come up with a good or decent rhyme.

Once I had parked my bike at my sister's house, I did not pay any attention to it at all, except to move it into her garage, that she does not use, because in my haste in leaving SLC I neglected to pack my motorcycle cover.

The next eight days were 12 to 14 hours a day seven days a week on the Habeas Appeal. Imagine if you can, working on the most complex jigsaw puzzle you could imagine, and not having the benefit of looking at the cover to see what it will look like. That is pretty much what it was. Thanks goodness for a search-able trial file and hard copies as well, looking for this and that. You tell a story relating to the subject of the appeal and almost every other sentence you have to reference either a defense chronology done by an expert, witness interviews, which need to be redacted; what an ominous word, it conjurers up visions of secret records kept by seldom mentioned governmental departments, and the trial transcript itself. It ended up being about 1500 pages of exhibits and the HABEAS Appeal is another 400 or so pages. This all needed to be bound with red covers and margins of X and 9 copies prepared. All the other major courts in California to my knowledge, accept electronic submissions on cases, but the Supreme Court Of California does not, although they did want a CD of the exhibits.

I left early Monday morning on the 15th of the month for my ride back. A friend called me and said that I should consider delaying my departure because of storms both in Salt Lake City and Nevada. I quickly pulled up the Weather Channel on my phone and Tonopah was still warm, but windy and I headed towards there. I told myself, that if I got to Tonopah before 3:30 in the afternoon, I would continue on the additional 170 miles back to Ely. At Boundary peak the pass is called Montgomery Pass and it reminded me of my friend Randy Montgomery who died in a freak motorcycle accident in Wolf Creak about 14 or so years ago. He had been involved in planning for the Olympics, and more importantly he had young children he did not get to see grow up. Such a pity.

Needless to say, I got to Tonopah a little after 3:00 pm,but before 3:30 and started back towards Ely knowing that I would probably run into rain before I got there. Eliot again, “Time and the bell have buried the day the black cloud carries the sun away.”
Just before I got to Ely is started to rain and just as I got to a motel in Ely it started snowing. Not a good omen, for Tuesday morning.

My bike was completely covered in snow, and I had to chip ice around the ignition so that my key would go in and do the same with the gas cap, so that I could fuel the bike. I decided to wear my glasses, rather than contacts and had planned on eating a hearty breakfast, to building up fodder to keep me warm, at a cafe in Ely, but the one I usually go to, is out of business. Again a muffin and juice at the Shell Station. I turned the heat up, for it was cold in the mid twenties and after talking with some people in the service station decided that I would still head back on 93and 93A to Wendover, rather than the longer route to Delta. It was snowing lightly when I left Ely, but it was not really sticking to the roads. Just North of McGill the snow picked up and my face shield was fogging and icing up. That means that I had to crack it enough to be able to see, but then my glasses got covered with snow and actually froze. There were several places where I could only go about 25 to 30 mph and I thought once or twice about turning back, but was worried about going down in the ice, if I tried to turn around. The bike made a couple of fish tale motions and I found I was better off riding in a lower gear towards the top of the rpm band, than trying to up-shift and keep the rpm low. I promised Pig Bodine, that’s my bike's name. Its the name of a character from a Thomas Pynchon novel, that if it got me through, I would instead of my annual coating of Zymol wax, I would do it twice this year. That seemed to do the trick and a ride that usually takes a little less than two hours, ended up taking almost three. White Horse pass that I had been dreading the whole ride from Ely was completely clear and Wendover was windy, but not too cold. At the Wendover Chevron station, I rewarded myself for having withstood the ordeal with a snickers. My boyish demand for a daily dose of excitement, temporarily satisfied I contemplated the rest of the ride home.

To make up for the slow time between Ely and Wendover, I rode the 120 miles home from Wendover to Salt Lake City at 85-to 90, figuring after my harrowing morning, a speeding ticket would be a small price to pay, but I was fine, the radar detector chirped a couple of times and it was windy, but I was toasty warm.
Pig looked unloved, uncared for and somewhat abused, and after unpacking, my somewhat wet gear, I gave him a bath.



Tuesday, October 16, 2012

MEN OF REASON AND THE KNOT ON THE ROPE OF WAR

I want to thank my sister Valerie and her husband Larry for helping me write this. Not in the sense that any of the words are theirs, but for providing me with our weekly Sunday motorcycle rides. I always feel very creative on motorcycle rides and over these past few weeks, the part of my mind that is not preoccupied with shifting, counter steering and watching traffic and scenery, is able to go back through my mind and remember from books read decades ago.

Both parts of the title of today's blog are quotes from Nikita Khrushchev, the first part from his memoirs and the second from a line he used in one of his letters to President Kennedy, about if either of them pulled too tight on the rope of war, the knot would be almost impossible to untie. If either of them had been men of less reason and gravitas, I think that it would have proved to have been the nuclear Armageddon we all were fearing during the cold war. Tom Lehrer's “Will all burn together when we burn, there's no need to stand and wait your turn,” would have proved true. Also, supposedly during this time period, Bob Dylan wrote his song, “ A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall.”

The first election that I had any interest in was the 1960 Presidential race. I was ten years old. I remember watching the debates and discussing the merits of both candidates with my friend then and now Tom Gorey, who has always been very politically astute and knowledgeable, He taught me about the electoral college and the Know Nothing Party and the Whigs and the Federalist. I remember a kid down the street who told me that if Kennedy won the Presidency the Pope would run the Country. Would anyone today make the same comment if Mitt Romney should win the White house this November., that the country would be run by Thomas Monson. I had also read both “Seven Days in May,” and “Fail Safe.

I remember the discussion of Matsu and Quemoy and the Missile Gap, that later we would learn, yes there was a missile gap, but it was so much in our favor, that it was almost pathetic. This among other things, had a direct bearing on the relations between Russia and the United States from Kennedy's Inauguration to this Death. Eisenhower had always been very circumspect in discussing this topic, was peeved with Kennedy, for using it, for from briefings JFK knew that we had many times the number of missiles,etc than the Russians had. Never tell the emperor he is naked, there is no way he will take it well. The Bay of Pigs made Kennedy look weak and Khrushchev was convinced that we would mount another invasion of Cuba and that this second attempt would probably be successful. We did plan “Operation Mongoose,” that Bobby Kennedy was very involved in the various plans that were considered . Kennedy had not done well at his Summit in Vienna with Khrushchev, his personal charm was lost on Khrushchev and Khrushchev grumbled that he couldn't relate to Kennedy who was younger that his own son.

I remember as if it was yesterday the excitement surrounding the inauguration ;The torch is passed to a new generation of American, in college I would write a paper, that I may do a blog about next year on the 50th anniversary of Kennedy's Death, in which I quoted someone, I forget with out looking now, that wonderfully worded and delivered speech was “jingoistic, a Monroe Doctrine for the World. “ My uncle Ranch Kimball was involved with the democratic party in Utah and had been invited to the inauguration. Then I didn't know that thousands of people are always invited, and I borrowed from my Aunt ,and took to school to exhibit with pride, the invitation.

In September of 1962, as the mid terms elections were on the horizon, I remember the charges made by the Senator from New York, Kenneth Ketting, who Robert Kennedy would defeat in the 1964 election, surrounding the military building up on Cuba and also another republican senator Homer Capehart who made similar charges. He would be defeated in the midterm elections. In response to this Kennedy made a speech in September of 1962, that during the crisis he regretted making, about what would be the consequences of the Russians putting any offensive weapons on Cuban Soil. Never before, unlike the United States, had Russian put nuclear weapons outside its own boarders.

In the earlier part of October, my family had taken what would turn out to be our final road trip to Taos and our friends who lived in Taos came back part way with us and we took them to Monument Valley and the Goose necks of the San Juan and I remember saying goodbye to them at the bottom of the Mokie dugway. I try to visit this same area every few years, and I always have a genuine Proustian moment at this same junction. I remember thinking about this weekend during the crisis itself, the last collected normalcy, while worrying about what may happen and realizing probably for the first time, that there were things in the world, that my parent's couldn't protect me from.

Athough the Public announcement and JFK speech regarding the Cuban Missile Crisis did not take place until the 22nd of October, JFK first saw the grainy pictures on the morning of October 16th 1962 by McGeorge Bundy, and his first response was that he guessed we would have to bomb them. And that Kenneth Ketting would be elected President in 1964. To deal with this crisis a sub committee, called Excom was established, from both member's of the National Security Council and others and after the crisis had ended. Kennedy or a representative for him contacted the jeweler Cartier about doing a simple little block with the month of October and those thirteen days in bold highlights. Cartier, suggested it be done in silver and supposedly did it for nothing. There were 33 of these made and besides the Excom people both Kennedy's secretary Evelyn Lincoln and Jackie received one.

Very early in the proceeding two things became very evident to the President, it was fast devolving in to Hawks and Doves, Bobby Kennedy at one point turned to someone and said, “Now I know how Tojo felt,” and that his presence in all the meetings, inhibited the exchange of views. Also, from everything I have read about JFK, many books and articles, I don't think he had a long attention span. He always had to have things going on, as many highly compartmentalized people do, and I think his mind would have maybe started to wander if he had had to sit through all those meetings. Kennedy after and because of the fiasco of the Bay of Pigs, had a healthy skepticism of military intelligence and I also think that because of his many health problems and brushes with death, he had enough empathy to put himself not only in Khrushchev place, but to imagine how this appeared to the rest of the world. It was ludicrous to think that two people could decide the fate of mankind. Kennedy was told that even if we eliminated 80 to 90 percent of the missiles in Cuba, upwards of 700 thousand Americans would loose their life if the remaining missiles on Cuba were unleashed during an attack on the United States. That is more people than died in the American Civil War. Western Europe had lived for years with the close proximity of missiles aimed at them, and in the event of war, it really would not matter whether the missile was fired from Russia, or from 90 miles away. It really didn't change the strategic balance at all. It would take the best of both of these leader's and their adviser's, to prevent the knot on the rope of war from becoming too tight to undo. Kennedy was a student of history, had read his Herodotus and Thucydides and had read and had all his aides, as well as several generals and the joint chiefs of staff read Barbara Tuchman's “The Guns of August,” dealing with the mistakes in decision making, etc. that lead up to the First World War.

Now for a break, what I actually remember, I remember his speech on the 22nd, which came out of the blue, even though by then I tried to watch the Huntley Brinkley report, which then was 15 minutes long, with my father every late afternoon. I remember the tenseness during the rest of the week, and I was actually at a friend's house, Kim Fuller, who had a very nice and elegant mother, for Adali Stevenson’s UN presentation and his hell freezing over and the world court of public opinion pronouncements and I remember feeling that she was deeply scared and worried, although she tried to pretend that nothing was going on. And yet, I still needed to be home by 5:30pm, we still ate as a family and my father still cut out that evening's television schedule from the Salt Lake Tribune with his pocketknife.

The President and his adviser's looked at either destroying the missiles or a quarantine and Ted Sorenson, the words-man of the New Frontier, actually worked on two draft's the one which was presented for the quarantine, which supposedly sounded less harsh than blockade, and one announcing that the president had approved taking out the missiles and the invasion by 150,000 plus of US servicemen of the island nation of Cuba. There was discussion about needing a government to run Cuba after our invasion and someone suggested Bobby as Mayor of Havana. That second draft is now on public display and it is chilling to read.

One of the best books I have read on the Cuban Missile Crisis is called, “One Minute to Midnight”, by Michael Dobbs, who by doing his own research of photos taken at the time, but not ever really looked at, but available for research at the National Archives, he actually found where the nuclear warheads, were stored and that the number of soviet Military personnel on the island of Cuba was much greater than we knew, 42,000+ and that in addition to the LRBM and MRBM, there were tactical nuclear weapons called Frogs and even some nuclear tipped shells for tanks and that Guantanamo,was a prime military target for the Cuban's and the Soviet soldiers. Even thought this was not known at the time, all the wives and most of the American support people at Guantanamo had been air lifted out earlier in the week. After the crisis had passed, Castro lobbied to retain ownership of the nuclear tipped shells that we didn't know about, but the Russians wisely took all the weapons out, although it probably took another month after the public resolution of this crisis.

The penultimate days of the crisis were late Friday October 26th and all of October 27th , referred to by those involved on the American side as 'Black Saturday,' it was then, late Friday, that the President received the first of two letters from Khrushchev. The first was a reasonable one and after they had started to think about responding to that one.  (This letter was fairly close to the final agreement, that we would agree to not invade Cuba, which had been one of the Russian reasons for putting the missiles there in the first place, and that privately we would agree at some point to remove the obsolete Jupiter Missiles from Turkey.) A much harsher and more belligerent second letter was read over Radio Moscow. They assumed that the first letter was written by Khrushchev alone, and the second letter was done by the politburo as a group. In those days, there was no direct line between our governments, that grew out of the Cuban Crisis, and to send a telegraph to Moscow, the Washington Soviet embassy had to call Western Union who would send over an elderly African American  on a bicycle, who would pick up the message and peddle back to Western union. How to deal with these two letter's took up much of the debate during those two days. Also, on Saturday a U2 was shot down, the pilot had been the same one that took the first photos. A Rudolph Anderson Jr. and he ended up being the only American who directly lost his life as a result of the crisis. A Russian sub was forced to surface as a result of some depth charges being sent their way and the Captain of the Sub wanted to fire his nuclear torpedo, but a Russian Admiral, (Vasili Arkhipov) on board prevented him from doing this. He is certainly an unsung hero of this epic. Another man of reason. During this time the United States went to level  Defcon 2, just one removed from actual all out nuclear war. If  this torpedo had been fired, it would have been very hard to contain the escalation of events. Several people finally suggested that the President respond to the first private letter and to ignore the second public letter. Also on the 27th Bobby Kennedy met secretly with Andrei Gromyko to go over all of this. Another person of reason in this ordeal. There had also been prior meetings between a KGB agent and a newspaper man John Scali. The Military felt, that the shooting down of the U2 was sufficient grounds to attack the Russians, that the blockade had done nothing, except for public relations purposes. Kennedy was smart enough to view this as an accident, the U2 downing, and not a premeditated act on the part of the Russians to escalate the situation.

President Kennedy was uncomfortable with those that were gloating that we had beat the Russians and when this was over, he said to Bobby, that it would be a great night to go to the theater. Bobby said he would go with him. Kennedy felt that this, the Cuban Missile Crisis, would be what he would be remembered for, but I like to think that the Peace Corp, the Test Ban Treaty and putting men on the Moon are the most lasting tribute, that and the groundwork, that LBJ would complete of the Civil Rights act of 1964.


I have thought about how would all of this play out today, when it is impossible to keep a secret and with the pressure of Twitter and Facebook. Does the President still have the bag man in close proximity for the launch codes for a nuclear attack, or is there a smart phone app for that. Does the red phone still exist, or does the President have leaders on speed dial on his blackberry and are they Facebook friends.

My biggest surprise in looking back at all of this, is that 50 years later, Fidel, although not the day to day head of Cuba is still around. He weathered all of our misplaced efforts to displace him, to assinate him, or to make his beard fall out and the embargo of Cuba, while being detrimental to the people of Cuba, has not changed their form of government. On that same “Black Saturday” Fidel wrote a letter to Khrushchev suggesting that the Russian do a preemptive attack on the United States, even though it would have for sure caused the destruction of Cuba and its people. Thank goodness men or reason prevailed.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy certainly learned from this experience as his speech in June of 1963 his so called Peace Speech, his commencement address at American University. “In the final analysis, our most common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal.”

When I was in high school I wrote in a play that won a Scholastic Magazine National Award, the following is a couple of lines from it and it sum's up my feelings as well today as it did then.

“The Men make bombs, but they buy paintings, they throw sulfur into the atmosphere, but they plant beautiful and even rows of wheat.”