NART - Walker to Calgary
Preamble:
Going back to last winter when I floated the concept of a motorcycle relay most of the folks in Reeky responded positively. Although I sowed the initial seed, it has been the Riders of Reeky who have made NART a success.
Starting with the Texan Gals, Sunny and Mag, who got the Tour off to such a great start. Then Odinn and Duke Sheep made sure the shirts were delivered to the Tour saviours Tim and Ari.
After languishing for what seemed like the whole summer in the N.E. Steve T. took the reins and hustled the laundry to the Michigan riders led by Sleazy.
Mark Olson set up the Minnesota Canucks connection, making sure all the Northern riders got their moniker on the shirts.
Now although I only mentioned a few, special thanks to all the riders who have participated and have made this event something special.
The North American Reeky Tour is terrific but
The Reeky Riders Rock!
The Route
Day One
Odometer Reading 62,210.3
The antique Virago is gassed up, serviced and ready to go. A last check of the long range weather report shows the possibility of a shower for the early part of the week. No problem, the rain gear is neatly tucked into the left saddlebag.
After waiting for the temperature to rise to a comfortable 15 degrees I am leaving Cowtown shortly after 9:00 AM. Life is good. The Antique Virago is growling like the spiteful woman she is named after.
First stop, Brooks Alberta to top up with fuel and
food.
Joey's Only fish & chips for breakfast. Mmmmm Gooood
Half hour later back on the road and the road is pretty much all mine, with the exception of a grey PT Cruiser that accelerated past me at high speed only to slow down directly in front and beside me. I slow to see what this bozo is up to, but he stays in the same approximate position. After a bit I roll on the throttle to get past him. Yup you guessed it, he sped up again and I am about to get pissed until he rolls down his window and starts pointing at the back of my bike. A quick over the shoulder check reveals half my trunk lid is flopping in the breeze. A quick wave of thanks and I pull over for what I hope will be the only repair required during the ride.
It seems parts vibrate off Viragos as well as Harleys. I lost the left side hinge on the trunk lid. No problem. Usually I only use the one lock but lacking a hinge I found using both locks secured the lid.
On to the Prairies.
There is enough beauty on those wide open spaces to capture your attention and fascination for about 30 minutes. Now what the heck do I do for the next friggin seven hours!
Now don’t get me wrong. This was a great trip. Like all rides it stimulated my senses and kept the adrenaline flowing, but if I see one more flat, straight stretch of road extending for as far as the eye can see in either direction I am going to buy an SUV. Literally you could lock the throttle and the bars and go to sleep for 45 minutes at a time before any steering input is required.
After navigating the first mind numbing stretch of flat land, I approached a slow sweeper. Damn I was excited. OK Don, wake up, feel the road, it’s about a 20 degree turn with a consistent radius. No banking. Choose your line, push left to turn left, OK can you get that knee down? 15 seconds of fun and back to another mind numbing 50 miles.
After a few turns I settled
in for the night in Moose Jaw. (I knew I should have joined that Road Kill
Safari)
Day Two
The latest long range weather forecast has taken a turn for the worse. Looks like a cold front is moving in with a frost warning for Southern Saskatchewan and Manitoba. Frost? In August? It's the rest of that forecast that scares me. Combined with the low temps there is a big low pressure area moving up from Montana and across the Prairies. It's gonna be nasty on the way back. Oh well add an extra layer of clothing and head for the border.
Weyburn, Estevan and then North Portal. Perfect, only one car in line.. Virtually no waiting. So after the usual questions about carrying illegal drugs or massive amounts of cash (does anyone actually admit to carrying drugs or massive amounts of cash across the border?) the Customs guy asks me where I am going. Walker Minnesota. And why am I going to Walker? Now I figure these guys have heard almost every reason for crossing the border and it would take something unusual to get a rise out of him, so I tell him I am joining the North American Reeky Tour. In his best US accent (yes folks you have them) he says “THE NORTH AMERICAN WHAT? LOL I showed him Sunny’s flag and gave him the rundown of the tour. Customs guys have no sense of humour. He tells me to pull over to the side and hollers to another inspector “Hey do you want to give this guy the Big One.” Now I don’t know what the “Big One’ is but I sure as heck don’t want to find out. Turns out he does have a sense of humour and was just joking.
Back on the road and headed to Laporte.
What is a ride without road construction? Just North of Kenmare, signs were posted warning of road construction, impending delays and advising all of an alternate route. Since the Antique Virago has only a slightly longer range than my bladder any alternate route that didn’t include a gas station was out of the question, so I stick to the planned route. As advertised I encounter the construction. Well it was more than a little construction. They had blown out the entire road. All that was left was a very loose sand/dirt/gravel surface. Better yet we had to wait for a pilot car to guide us through the maze of buggies, dozers and spoil piles. I find myself slipping and sliding all over the place thinking this is a great time to exercise all of my dirt riding skills. Wait a second; I don’t have any dirt riding skills. (Yes I admit it. I have never ridden in the dirt. Hangs head in shame) Well lack of skills or not I managed to traverse the six or seven miles upright and intact although much dirtier from all the dust.
South of Kenmare was the best stretch of road of the entire trip. New asphalt, which had lost that pure black finish but was still perfectly smooth. The road meandered up and down through the rolling hills. Similar to the foothills we have in Alberta. That spiteful woman between my legs was whispering to me. “Let me go. Turn me loose” I roll on the throttle a little. She responds in kind. “Let me go. Turn me loose” I twist the throttle a little more wondering what a speeding ticket in North Dakota costs. Who cares, let’s ride. I crank her up to 140 and it barely felt like 100. Thirty miles of pure pleasure.
The rest of the day was uneventful, and I stopped for the night at Devils Lake
Day Three
Damn, it is bloody cold this morning. Stop in at the Wal Mart to buy some thermal underwear. Start the day with three layers of clothing.
Now I am just trying to make time to get to Laporte in a hurry. After several stops for fuel, check my Mapquest maps and shed a layer or two of clothing as the day progress’s I find myself looking for an address on County 45. As I get closer I am checking every number sign I pass, until I see Sunny’s Reeky Tour Logo attached to a sign post. Very Cool Idea.
The Meet
Now I am sure we all have preconceived expectations when we meet people for the first time and I am no exception. For some reason I had mixed up John and Mark while viewing the pictures on Mark’s NART page. So as I drive up I see, who I think is John running down the driveway to take a picture. Two things run through my mind. Are my pipes that loud and what the heck is John doing here?lol Of course it was Mark. I had seen pictures of Pooder before so I immediately recognized him, but who is this young guy impersonating Bob Mann. Bob has talked so often of his impending retirement I was expecting someone my age but this guy looked like he was in his late thirties. Turns out he is an old codger like me, just very well preserved. ;-). Must be all the weightlifting, clean living and cold winters. Good on ya Bob.
Don Fearn, Mark Olson, & the Youthful Bob Mann
At the Cabin
More Important - The Bikes!
After a the initial greetings and the obligatory checking out of the rides we head into town for a bite to eat and the now traditional signing of the shirts.
Now for all the safety fanatics out there, this was the only time I took my hat off on the entire trip. I’ll say ten Hail Mary’s and promise to buy a full face helmet for my indiscretion.
Pooder signs while Bob shows an unusual fascination with the plastic bag
Pooder brings out his NART shirt for all to sign
Mark had spent a lot of time and effort setting this weekend up and because of the impending crappy weather moving onto the Prairies I wanted to head back ASAP to avoid as much of the storm as possible. Since Pooder was also heading home on Saturday, I am afraid I kind of screwed up Mark’s plans. My bad Mark. You did a terrific job setting this up and despite my early departure I appreciate your efforts.
But we spent a little time riding together, had a fine meal, signed the shirts and made a few new friends. All in all a fine way to spend a day.
The Ride Home
Odometer reading leaving Walker 64,002.4
I think it was around three thirty or four when I left Walker and it was a perfect afternoon for riding. I made it to Crookston before I decided to stop for the night. Funny thing as I turned onto Main Street in Crookston. There were hundreds of people lined up on either side of the street and they were all in a festive mood. Now I was thinking “All this to welcome the North American Reeky Tour?” Turns out it was some kind of a fifties weekend celebration.
I am going to skip most of the details on this part of the ride. Sunday was windy and very cold. For riding comfort it was only outdone by Monday which started out with heavy rain, bitter cold and high winds.
Red Green Would be Proud
No I am not trying to fashion a full face helmet out of duct tape. I am creating a rain bib intended to keep the rain and wind out of my helmet.
It was actually quite effective.
Now I had anticipated the probability of a shower or two at some point during the ride, but what I had not anticipated was the winter like conditions and intensely heavy rain I encountered. Needless to say I left the polar suit at home.
Before leaving Moose Jaw my bags were virtually empty because I was wearing almost every piece of clothing I had with me. Eight layers plus the rain gear.
I looked like a black Pillsbury Doe Boy with a thyroid problem.
There was light rain in Moose Jaw and I was thinking if it doesn't get any worse than this I am fine. An hour later the heavy rain started, but traffic was light and I was warm and dry under all the clothing. And my duct tape rain bib kept my face warm and toasty. No problem.
Problem! Visibility was bad and at the last second I saw a raccoon (or something similar) road kill lying in my track. As I stomped on the rear brake to effect the swerve my right boot took a big gulp of water. This cannot be a good thing. Trying to find any positives to make the ride tolerable I tucked the boot full of water up against the engine and drew the heat through the boot, to heat the water, to keep my foot warm. Surprisingly it worked.
I have new rubber on the Antique Virago and was not sure how they would perform in the heavy rain, but I was pleasantly surprised. Not once did I feel the tires would let loose on the slick roads and I pretty much cruised at 120 KPH, accelerating to 140 to pass. Even the hydroplaning was predictable.
Unfortunately biological pit stops required almost total disrobing to accomplish this normally easy function.
I think it was after my second bio break I must have assembled the multiple layers of protection incorrectly cuz the rain gear began to fail. Once the water starts encroaching there is no stopping it. Gradually I could feel it everywhere. Uncomfortable yes, but with protection from the wind it was still not unbearable.
Every time I stopped I considered shutting it down for the day and waiting out the storm. But the weather reports consistently predicted crappy weather all week. Each time I decided to go for one more leg. The Virago has poor range so I need to stop every 60 to 100 miles to ensure I don't run out of gas.
Passing through Medicine Hat was the worst. Heavy traffic, monsoon type rain and lousy visibility. It was the only time I was a little nervous.
After that traffic was light and for the most part the cagers behaved themselves. Only a couple of them passed and cut in too quickly in front of me. For what it is worth I flashed them the high beams but I doubt my protest was heard. What did piss me off were those who would pull up beside me and not complete the pass. Fluctuating my speed made no difference. They simply matched my pace. Considering the road was near empty, there was no reason to introduce the risk of two vehicles traveling so closely together in crappy conditions. Not to mention the dirty air and road wash they were throwing at me. I think they got the hint when I waved them on.
I had to pick and choose my spots to pass the larger vehicles. I had to wait for a moment of lighter rain and a dryer road before passing. To attempt anything else would be riding totally blind.
Medicine Hat to Calgary is only 3 1/2 hours and I knew I would finish the run that day. As I am prone to do from time to time I had a chat with my Lord suggesting what ever he was punishing me for I had had enough and if it is not your intent to stop the heavy rain at least lighten it up so I can see. And while I was very grateful he listened and reduced the monsoon to light rain, he also shifted the wind so it was coming from the North. Cold Bitter Biting wind. Ummmm Thanks.
The last pit stop was Brooks, an hour and a half from home. Still raining and still cold but I decided to put the rocket on rails and ride her home.
Without a doubt it was the most uncomfortable weather I have ever ridden in. If the Antique Virago didn’t have such a wimpy charging system I would buy one of those riding suits that Pooder has. That thing is wired to provide heat to all of the important spots. I swear I think it even has a coffee maker wired in one of the pockets.
Conclusion
One of the many reoccurring threads that pop up from time to time in Reeky is the why do you ride question. This trip reminded me that riding, good weather or bad, stimulates the senses and challenges our skills. This was a wonderful trip, but I would have been content with less stimulation on the way home.
Odometer reading Calgary 65,748.8
Check out more pictures and Marl Olson's narrative here:
http://olsonm.dsl.visi.com/misc/NART/