Sunday, February 15, 2015

Any excuse will do


I see a Facebook post about an eatery in Rifle, Colorado called "Shooters Bar and Grill". At "Shooters" all the employees carry a sidearm while working...at least that is what the FB post said.
Sounds interesting, and Bel, our Yamaha Royalstar hasn't been out of the garage for a while, so......any excuse will do. We make hurried plans for a ride to Rifle, Colorado, a short 340 miles away.

I posted open invites on two forums, but we get no takers to go on the trip with  us. Maybe its the time of year, but the forecast calls for temps above 60 for the route of the ride....shouldn't be to bad.
We leave Friday at 3:00 and ride to Green River, Utah stopping at the River Terrace Inn. We dine next door at the Tamerisk, one of my favorite places to eat in Utah. The Salmon was superb!  
This is our view off the deck of our room.
 After a refreshing nights sleep we're off in the morning, but first a stop at the Green River Museum. 
I LOVE melons! 
(Green River is known for great melons of all kinds)
 One more stop at "The Ratio" a sculpture based on the Fibonacci sequence done by Australian artist Andrew Rogers. The sculpture is 44 feet tall and 42 feet wide.
 Beverly chills whilst I play.

We ride the 92 miles from Green River to the Colorado National Monument, near Fruita, Colorado. Follow the red line to see the curvy national monument road.

The Independence rock


 And we make it to Rifle where Shooters is located.
 Beverly gets the grilled chicken salad, I get a chicken fried steak. Both were delicious!
They were actually out of the CFS, but Cade the cook prepared one especially for me and it was well worth the small amount of extra time waiting for it. Thanks to Shooters for a great dinner! Sadly though, none of the servers that night were packing heat...so we just enjoyed our dinner and went on our way with out any pics of the staff.
 Well fed and happy.
 Another nights rest and it's time to head for home. The town square clock tells us its time to go.
Our return trip home is nearly the same as going over. 783 miles and waaaaaay more than that in calories for the weekend. 
A pretty nice Valentines weekend for each other, don't you think?
A good ride!

Friday, February 13, 2015

Sparkly farkle-y, Ginger gets dressed.

Alas, Gen, my faithful 2008 DL1000 V-Strom has gotten a little long in the tooth. 
We two have shared 98,000 miles of harmony and bliss together....at least on my part. Oh sure I had some complaints, the gagging goose sound she made via the air intake nearly drove me batty on occasion. And her seat, actually a corbin seat, while very comfy was TALL, I was on my toes at stoplights. So, even though those are minor issues I figured it was time for........a change. Trust me, that was not an easy thing to do, or even think about.
I struggled for a minute deciding what to do.
Those are not raindrops...
And there she goes, hesitating for only a second before riding out of my life with her new partner, Nate.

So anyway meet Ginger.
You can tell she is a true Ginger because all of her red paint matches..
Following are the changes Ginger has made since the four weeks we've been together.
This is Ginger....naked. 
Pretty nice eh??
 Tankbag.
 Engine guards, skid plate.
 Top box.
 Center stand, bark busters, headlight protector.
 Grip heaters, auto chain oiler.
And finally....all luggaged out. We are ready for a trip!


Some detail shots.
Head light protector.
 Installing the skid plate. My poor man's bike stand....a ladder to hold her up without a kickstand.
 Another view of the bark busters.
 The farkle filled boxes.
 Chain oiler. The vacuum tube and oil feed line on in the 3 feet of 7/16 ID fuel line for protection.
 Grip heater control.
 Some farkles are more important than others... Good friend Ken, aka Basecamp gave me this Gremlin Bell several years ago. Yes yes....I don't like the blue wire tie either, but I ran out of black...I'll change it when I get another bag of black ties.
 A view of Gingers other side....damm she's hot!


So...my impressions of the DL 650.
As mentioned before the DL1000 is a tall bike. On the 650 I can flat foot easily..that is SOOO nice and confidence inspiring when off pavement. I've taken Ginger a couple of places I would not have tried with Gen. The lighter weight and lower seat are a definite positive.
The gagging goose air intake sound is replaced by nearly silence on the 650....VERY NICE!!!
The seat is reasonably comfy, not corbin comfy, but so far I'm not planning on the 4 to 5 bills to get a custom seat.
On the other hand...
The throttle is twitchy....real twitchy.....annoyingly twitchy. And oh by the way, the throttle is twitchy!
The bike is a little buzzy at speed, but to be fair that might be a result of the GIVI engine guards I installed.

Power and mileage.
Yes, the DL 650 has less power, but it has plenty for me.  I've had her about a month now, and have ridden 3100 miles. The mileage is starting to improve a lot with the breaking. All in all I'm pretty happy with the bike.

Time for a ride.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Ginger goes to Scotty's Castle.



I've got a new bike. 
Meet Ginger. 

She's a true ginger because all her red paint matches. 
I'll give a better introduction when I receive the last of my ordered farkles and get them installed.

Strom Buddy Adrian and I decide to take a weekend ride to Death Valley.
We meet Friday at Lehi Crossroads Chevron and make the 460 mile ride to Las Vegas.

 The next day, Saturday, we're off to see Scotty's Castle near Death Valley. 
Entering Pahrump, Nevada we see this classic. Alfa Romero ...I think... What a beauty!!!
 Area 51 Alien Center, Gas station / Brothel where we get gas and....goodies.
 Hat shopping...
 On the road again...we stop at another brothel when we see this plane.
Adrian does some research and finds this;
In 1978, Fran, the owner of Fran’s Star Ranch & Brothel in Beatty, NV sent letters to pilots and jumpers across the west announcing that she was going to put a mattress in the center of a large star painted in the parking lot and any jumper who could hit the mattress would win a free night with a lady of his choice. On the day of the event, Fran’s ladies were lined up along the runway waving like beacons dressed in spiked heels, fish-net stockings, G-strings, black lace bras, rhinestone chokers, and long capes blowing in the strong wind. The sky was crowded that afternoon as Buster, along with seven passengers, all ready to party, banked his twin Beech D-18 in a circle around the field, adjusted his throttle, trimmed his propellers, lowered his landing gear, put his flaps down, and began his final descent. 

The twin Beech is a notoriously complicated aircraft to fly, especially so when landing in a crosswind. Buster would have noticed this if he’d been watching the wind sock. Instead he was gawking at the ladies, his attention only forced back to the runway at touchdown when the crosswind started to weathercock the plane around. He reduced power on his down wind engine, frantically trying to regain control of the aircraft when he realized that he’d forgotten to lock his tail wheel down. The landing gear crumpled and the plane spun like a dust devil toward the edge of the runway, clipped a high line post, and settled in the sage as the ladies watched on. 
Even though the Beech was a total loss, the passengers survived. A couple of weeks later, Buster returned to salvage the engines and other valuable parts. Fran, who had noticed increased traffic, decided that a crashed plane was good for business and agreed to leave the stripped fuselage where it landed. In 1997, she sold the brothel to Mack and Angel Moore. 

Former owners of a chain of funeral homes and active Christians, Mack and Angel see the brothel as a way to help ease suffering. Dave, a long haul trucker and one of the rare customers willing to talk, said,” It’s a lonely life out here on the road and you need to find a place where you feel welcome.” Just after Mack and Angel bought the place, they changed the name to Angel’s Ladies Brothel but they kept the plane which has become a landmark along highway 95. davidlayne


Adrian tries to start the engines, but they won't catch...
Weary of brothels we continue our ride to Scotty's Castle.
Construction began on Scotty's Castle in 1922, and cost between $1.5 and $2.5 million. Prospector, performer, and con man Walter Scott  also known as “Death Valley Scotty,” convinced Chicago millionaire Albert Mussey Johnson to invest in his gold mine in the Death Valley area. Though initially angered when the mine turned out to be fraudulent, Johnson was fascinated with the colorful Scott and the two men struck up an unlikely friendship. By 1937, Johnson had acquired more than 1,500 acres (610 ha) in Grapevine Canyon, where the ranch is located. 
- Wikipedia

One of Johnsons Packards.

 The garage area.

 More Wikipedia;
Unknown to the Johnsons, the initial survey was incorrect, and the land they built Death Valley Ranch on was actually government land; their land was further up Grapevine Canyon. Construction halted as they resolved this mistake, but before it could resume, the stock market crashed in 1929, making it difficult for Johnson to finish construction. Having lost a considerable amount of money, the Johnsons used the Death Valley Ranch to produce income by letting rooms out, upon the suggestion of Scott. The Johnsons died without heirs and had hoped that the National Park Service would purchase the property, and in 1970, the National Park Service purchased the villa for $850,000 from the Gospel Foundation (the socially-oriented charity Johnson founded in 1946), to which the Johnsons had left the property.[3]
Walter Scott, who was taken care of by the Gospel Foundation after Johnson's passing, died in 1954 and was buried on the hill overlooking Scotty's Castle next to a beloved dog.
We are soon on our way back to our lodging.
Adrian stops to snap a picture.

 We stop again for quicky gas top off and a pick me up at the Area 51 gas/brothel.

Sunday we ride for home via Zion National Park. Just before the park with take a short side trip up Mesa road.
In the park now.




 Dinner in Panguitch
 Its getting late, chilly and light is fading. We stop for gas in tiny Marysvale...I started out the day with a headache and it's only gotten worse as the day wore on. I feel like my ability to ride is compromised so I decide to call it a day and get a room, Adrian needs to be to work the next day, but is hesitant to leave me when I'm feeling knackered. I'm able to assure him I'll be ok, and off he goes. Adrian is a hellofarider, a good man and a good friend!

I find lodging here.
As soon as I check in I take the short walk to the only store in town for some juice and maybe some meds. Unfortunately I get to the store at about 5 minutes after 6:00....which is closing time. Damm. I have a water bottle with about 1/4 left and a nut bar, I guess that will have to do.
When I walk back to the motel, the owner comes walking out and asks me if I got to the store in time? When I say no he asks if I need anything, some juice or cookies? I tell him I'd be happy to buy some from him...he disappears into the office and quickly returns with and unopened jug of apple juice and a partial tray of cookies. "Here you go" he says, "How much do I owe you?" I ask, "Nothing" he replies, "thanks for stopping in", and walks away.
Sweet, I have snacks!
 My newly acquired snacks in my very well kept room.
The room is clean and quiet, but I have a miserable night recovering from whatever it is that ails me. (edit to add: the day after I got home I visit the Dr. who puts me on anti-biotics for a sinus infection. No wonder my head hurt so bad...)
At least I had a warm bed, I'm off for home in the morning feeling much better.

 I love riding!
 I hit some heavy rain on the way home.....Ginger is no longer a virgin.
1363 chilly, fun, miles. A GOOD weekend!