BRAG California Tour -- Day 1
May. 18th, 2002 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tugrikFrang keeps this big ol' chunk of foam in his house, tucked behind his salvaged Virtual World pod. It's my sleeping-spot; he throws it out on the floor, and after walking around in place three times, I crash out asleep on it.
I'll state this now and get it out of the way: I'm cushy-bed spoiled. As the owner of one of those nice pillow-topped California King matresses, I find it hard to sleep on other beds. Motels in particular, with their board-like beds, have me rolling all night and never quite sleeping right. This is one of my biggest fears about 'adventure travelling' -- inability to sleep during the long haul. Having sleep apnea, it's just something I get a little too concerned about. I used to be worse; I owned a waterbed! Those will spoil you rotten, and make sleeping elsewhere impossible. I got rid of it. Combine shifting to a normal (if cushy) bed and losing weight (still dropping, albeit slowly)... soon this problem will be solved, and I'll be back to my college days of 'just let me curl up in the corner, no sweat' sleep-ability.
That being said... My sleepy-spot at Frang's is surprisingly comfy. Were it not so dratted huge even when tightly bundled, I'd take it with me! I woke up decently refreshed, at about 8:30a, waking Dusty up in the process of rolling to my feet. Frang normally doesn't wake until 11a or later... and he has to let us out of his gate. Lucky for us, a relative called and woke him up for us. A quick freshing up, packing of the bikes, and we were gone by 9:30am.
Thanks to Frang's use of Mapquest and Farix's loaner Garmin GPS, we located a Radio Shack and the Hollwood BMW motorcycle dealer. We ended up blazing past the Radio Shack, but that was ok; we picked up Dusty's charger in San Diego later on. The BMW dealer was quite glad to see us, and had just the part to fix the mirror.
Let this be said: BMW's claims of being a 'company of the Riders, for the Riders', and pledging kind and quick service to any of their bike owners while on tour... is 100% true. They were quick, kind, spot-on, and concerned for our well being. While one service tech ws fixing my mirror, the other peeked at the oil, prodded the suspention in a few places, wiggled the bag mounts, and did other 'road checks'. They had me sit on the bike while they tightened on the new mirror mount, and even adjusted my other one for me. All work done, I was sent on my way... for a simple $6.49. The price of the missing part. I am both pleased and impressed.
A few blocks away was an IHOP the dealer pointed us to. Dusty and I made quick work of it, as leaving the bikes in the back side of Hollywood, even though chained and within viewing distance, was not our idea of a Good Thing to Do. We were back on in no time, headed down the Hollywood freeway.
So was everybody else.
Within the hour that the dealer and breakfast took, the freeway went from a handful of cars to <15mph bumper to bumper. Where did all these monkeys come from, and who the hell put wheels on their cages? That stretch of road is also pretty narrow per lane, but I still managed to thread the draft-horse of a bike (extra wide with the bags on it) between cars and the little white lines, often times to the 'eeek!' of the driver. Hey, don't worry, I had a whole 2 to 3 inches between my engine guard and your lexus... no problem! Oh, don't sweat the oversized mirror there, Mr. Poinless SUV Driver... I was able to duck and it only brushed my jacket. We're cool. We were glad when this finally dumped back into I-5 with its extra 6-18" of interlane gap.
The rest of the ride to San Diego was pretty crappy, as rides go. All superslab, from 3 to 5 lines on a side... all with heavy traffic. I think we lane-split at about 45mph through 15mph traffic for most of the distance between Irvine and Oceanside. Meanwhile, it wasn't so much rain that couldn't fall as it was fog with a bad attitude... it kind of hung there, and we ran through it, getting damp in the process. Again, thank you Held... your index-finger squeegie is a lifesaver. Finally both the mist and the traffic gave up, just in time to dodge down the 805, and then off into our hotel in northern San Diego.
A short panic at the hotel -- no reservations. This was luckily just a clerical error, and was fixed quickly. Drop off the luggage, jot a quick journal entry (see Day 0, before this one), and head the three blocks to the dealer. The party was decent, but unremarkable. Some local cover band on an outdoor stage, a BBQ pit with bratwurst, nacho chips, potato salad and soda. Tons of people on Buells, tons of Harley riders checking out the buells. My big ol' adventure bike stuck out like a steel fire-escape ladder amidst fine latticework spiral staircases. In comparison to the little frilly and decorated sportbikes, it looked a lot more solid and rugged. This got it quite a few ooo-must-look fans, much to my surprise. Had I brought the wing, it would have gotten a few 'oh. Hmmmmm." type reactions.
It really made my day to have one of the staff members of the Harley dealership looking over my bike, obviously very curious of it. "This bike can go anywhere, can't it?" I just nodded, with a grin. His partner, walking up behind, pulled a "woah, dude", making a bit of a fuss over it. His opinion? "If things were goin' down, man... earthquake, terrorisim, crap like that... this is the bike I'd want to be on. This bike would get me home." I made sure to remember that one. My love of support infrastructure couldn't have been fed a more satisfying line.
Hauling out the camera for the first time, I snapped off a few shots of us with the bikes, as well as the folks wandering around the BBQ/party. Eric Buell himself was playing guitar for a bit, much to Dusty's amazement. Not much else to shoot, I'm afraid, so Day 1 has about 12 photos tops. I'd let y'all see them, but they're huge and my modem is small... and stupidly I forgot to load Photoshop on this little barbie-laptop, so I can't compress them. I had to swap laptop choices at the last second as the big one simply wouldn't fit; I'm running full bags. Unless things change (like broadband at one of the hotels), don't expect any photos until either Saturday (the Vallejo changeover) or after the ride ends.
I ambled back to the hotel, accidentally missing the opening Group Photo (D'OH). Dusty headed off on a mini Poker-Run... which was mostly an excuse to hit 5 strip joints in one night. It's nearing 11p as I write this, and he's still not back. When he's suffering from lack of sleep tomorrow while we work hard in the twisties near San Bernadino, I will mock him. *big evil grin* I fired up the laptop again, abused MapQuest s'more, and found both the Radio Shack and the BoFA ATM I needed. Got some greenery for the road, and the power supply for Dusty's Chatterbox-FRS radio that we'd left behind.
I finally sat down and read the packet that we picked up this morning. They gave us nifty stuff like a T-shirt, a digital tire pressure gauge, and a ton of MadMaps (maps made specifically for motorcyclers). They gave out general text directions of where you were supposed to be and when, as well as some recommended routes... but as it turns out, we pick our own way! I scribbled up the map with both their 'midlevel' and 'long and twisty' recommendeds, and got it mounted in the mapcase. A few waypoints in the GPS, and I'm all set. At breakfast tomorrow our little crew (who dusty is out doing the Poker Run with right now) will decide which route to take. I'm hoping they go for the ubertwisty one (270 miles), as it's early in the week and I'm still fresh.
I'd already had more calories today than I wanted, so a quick OJ and some water, I'm all ready for bed. Today was a mere 138 miles and change, but it the traffic and weather made it as bad as a 250+. Here's to hoping the misty/rain-wannabe conditions clear up, and we've got clear skies in the morning. We do breakfast in Oceanside, and then backroads it up through San Bernadino/BigBear to reach Victorville in the evening.
See ya tomorrow night!
I'll state this now and get it out of the way: I'm cushy-bed spoiled. As the owner of one of those nice pillow-topped California King matresses, I find it hard to sleep on other beds. Motels in particular, with their board-like beds, have me rolling all night and never quite sleeping right. This is one of my biggest fears about 'adventure travelling' -- inability to sleep during the long haul. Having sleep apnea, it's just something I get a little too concerned about. I used to be worse; I owned a waterbed! Those will spoil you rotten, and make sleeping elsewhere impossible. I got rid of it. Combine shifting to a normal (if cushy) bed and losing weight (still dropping, albeit slowly)... soon this problem will be solved, and I'll be back to my college days of 'just let me curl up in the corner, no sweat' sleep-ability.
That being said... My sleepy-spot at Frang's is surprisingly comfy. Were it not so dratted huge even when tightly bundled, I'd take it with me! I woke up decently refreshed, at about 8:30a, waking Dusty up in the process of rolling to my feet. Frang normally doesn't wake until 11a or later... and he has to let us out of his gate. Lucky for us, a relative called and woke him up for us. A quick freshing up, packing of the bikes, and we were gone by 9:30am.
Thanks to Frang's use of Mapquest and Farix's loaner Garmin GPS, we located a Radio Shack and the Hollwood BMW motorcycle dealer. We ended up blazing past the Radio Shack, but that was ok; we picked up Dusty's charger in San Diego later on. The BMW dealer was quite glad to see us, and had just the part to fix the mirror.
Let this be said: BMW's claims of being a 'company of the Riders, for the Riders', and pledging kind and quick service to any of their bike owners while on tour... is 100% true. They were quick, kind, spot-on, and concerned for our well being. While one service tech ws fixing my mirror, the other peeked at the oil, prodded the suspention in a few places, wiggled the bag mounts, and did other 'road checks'. They had me sit on the bike while they tightened on the new mirror mount, and even adjusted my other one for me. All work done, I was sent on my way... for a simple $6.49. The price of the missing part. I am both pleased and impressed.
A few blocks away was an IHOP the dealer pointed us to. Dusty and I made quick work of it, as leaving the bikes in the back side of Hollywood, even though chained and within viewing distance, was not our idea of a Good Thing to Do. We were back on in no time, headed down the Hollywood freeway.
So was everybody else.
Within the hour that the dealer and breakfast took, the freeway went from a handful of cars to <15mph bumper to bumper. Where did all these monkeys come from, and who the hell put wheels on their cages? That stretch of road is also pretty narrow per lane, but I still managed to thread the draft-horse of a bike (extra wide with the bags on it) between cars and the little white lines, often times to the 'eeek!' of the driver. Hey, don't worry, I had a whole 2 to 3 inches between my engine guard and your lexus... no problem! Oh, don't sweat the oversized mirror there, Mr. Poinless SUV Driver... I was able to duck and it only brushed my jacket. We're cool. We were glad when this finally dumped back into I-5 with its extra 6-18" of interlane gap.
The rest of the ride to San Diego was pretty crappy, as rides go. All superslab, from 3 to 5 lines on a side... all with heavy traffic. I think we lane-split at about 45mph through 15mph traffic for most of the distance between Irvine and Oceanside. Meanwhile, it wasn't so much rain that couldn't fall as it was fog with a bad attitude... it kind of hung there, and we ran through it, getting damp in the process. Again, thank you Held... your index-finger squeegie is a lifesaver. Finally both the mist and the traffic gave up, just in time to dodge down the 805, and then off into our hotel in northern San Diego.
A short panic at the hotel -- no reservations. This was luckily just a clerical error, and was fixed quickly. Drop off the luggage, jot a quick journal entry (see Day 0, before this one), and head the three blocks to the dealer. The party was decent, but unremarkable. Some local cover band on an outdoor stage, a BBQ pit with bratwurst, nacho chips, potato salad and soda. Tons of people on Buells, tons of Harley riders checking out the buells. My big ol' adventure bike stuck out like a steel fire-escape ladder amidst fine latticework spiral staircases. In comparison to the little frilly and decorated sportbikes, it looked a lot more solid and rugged. This got it quite a few ooo-must-look fans, much to my surprise. Had I brought the wing, it would have gotten a few 'oh. Hmmmmm." type reactions.
It really made my day to have one of the staff members of the Harley dealership looking over my bike, obviously very curious of it. "This bike can go anywhere, can't it?" I just nodded, with a grin. His partner, walking up behind, pulled a "woah, dude", making a bit of a fuss over it. His opinion? "If things were goin' down, man... earthquake, terrorisim, crap like that... this is the bike I'd want to be on. This bike would get me home." I made sure to remember that one. My love of support infrastructure couldn't have been fed a more satisfying line.
Hauling out the camera for the first time, I snapped off a few shots of us with the bikes, as well as the folks wandering around the BBQ/party. Eric Buell himself was playing guitar for a bit, much to Dusty's amazement. Not much else to shoot, I'm afraid, so Day 1 has about 12 photos tops. I'd let y'all see them, but they're huge and my modem is small... and stupidly I forgot to load Photoshop on this little barbie-laptop, so I can't compress them. I had to swap laptop choices at the last second as the big one simply wouldn't fit; I'm running full bags. Unless things change (like broadband at one of the hotels), don't expect any photos until either Saturday (the Vallejo changeover) or after the ride ends.
I ambled back to the hotel, accidentally missing the opening Group Photo (D'OH). Dusty headed off on a mini Poker-Run... which was mostly an excuse to hit 5 strip joints in one night. It's nearing 11p as I write this, and he's still not back. When he's suffering from lack of sleep tomorrow while we work hard in the twisties near San Bernadino, I will mock him. *big evil grin* I fired up the laptop again, abused MapQuest s'more, and found both the Radio Shack and the BoFA ATM I needed. Got some greenery for the road, and the power supply for Dusty's Chatterbox-FRS radio that we'd left behind.
I finally sat down and read the packet that we picked up this morning. They gave us nifty stuff like a T-shirt, a digital tire pressure gauge, and a ton of MadMaps (maps made specifically for motorcyclers). They gave out general text directions of where you were supposed to be and when, as well as some recommended routes... but as it turns out, we pick our own way! I scribbled up the map with both their 'midlevel' and 'long and twisty' recommendeds, and got it mounted in the mapcase. A few waypoints in the GPS, and I'm all set. At breakfast tomorrow our little crew (who dusty is out doing the Poker Run with right now) will decide which route to take. I'm hoping they go for the ubertwisty one (270 miles), as it's early in the week and I'm still fresh.
I'd already had more calories today than I wanted, so a quick OJ and some water, I'm all ready for bed. Today was a mere 138 miles and change, but it the traffic and weather made it as bad as a 250+. Here's to hoping the misty/rain-wannabe conditions clear up, and we've got clear skies in the morning. We do breakfast in Oceanside, and then backroads it up through San Bernadino/BigBear to reach Victorville in the evening.
See ya tomorrow night!
