What a great trip it's been!

     The weather had climbed a whopping 30 degrees in one week.  I planned a 3 day weekend getaway from Phoenix to San Diego to go visit some ol' friends, and to let my body and bike feel a nice long trip together, especially after a jarringly cold winter.

       The weather rose, and so did I.  I made a break for it, daringly, with just a denim jacket in case it got cold somewhere in there (and believe me I was cursing some morning and evening freezes), and the one outfit I was wearing, which is pretty much how all my trips seem to go.  So check out some of my trip photos from the week leading up to and through the weekend adventure.

Fully adjustable modifications.

Gluing a guitar seam.

Ice skating on a Phoenix pool anyone?

Closing holes in my riding gloves.

Busting knuckles bike wrenching. 

I put new pockets in my jeans.

I got some stickers in the mail!

With which I promptly and proudly rocked.

Racing a Train.

Pass the salt and pepper, please.

Coolest table decorations ever.

Randy makes awesome ass Tiki's!

Just a little leisure reading on the beach.

Aaaaand, "action!"

Lucky me! Laura shared her special drink with me.
 All the bootleg'n way from Tennessee.

Drinks at Hamilton's in South Park.
(followed by a stumble home)

A good visit with Adam at his shop "24 Cycles" in San Diego.  Go check it out.

My bike and I turned 50,000 miles together
on this trip.
A milestone of love.

Adam gifted my baby a golden bell
for it's 50,000'th mile birthday.

Gila Bend, Space Age restaurant!
Ate here for lunch.
This place is rad!
Makes me wanna see UFO's.

My lunch total came out to my lucky number.  

Drunkenly gracing a full page
in the Lady Hump photographic annual,
was a neat surprise.
Slab City Riot, 2010.

      I'd like to thank my friends Adria and Randy for a wonderful few evenings, beach day, and for being the hosts with the most.  Matteo, for being the other host with the most and bar going buddy, always down to hang.  Sharona, for taking me out and spending a fun filled evening catching up with me and making me laugh about all the old times.  Adam, for a great visit, witnessing my bikes 50,000 mile milestone birthday, and some cool stuff, my bike says it loves the new bell.  And to Laura for sharing some famous Popcorn Sutton Moonshine and conversation with me into the wee hours of the morning.  I found my new favorite drink.

P.S.  There are more photos out there, so check back in for some little morsels yet to come. 

New Years Resolution:

For those of you who know me, you know I have a hard time sitting still.  I have a hard time living in one place for too long, and I have a hard time finding a reason to stay.  Please someone give me a reason.

Right now I'm gladly planted in Phoenix for another year getting my Harley Davidson mechanic certification, so I can properly, and professionally start doing my own wrenching, building, and get back to my road trades.  But just thinking of the upcoming summer, I'm bummed that all my trips have to be limited to however far I can get back and forth within three days and two night trips, instead of the months long summer adventures that I'm used to.

As much of a lonely vagabond that I've been, I am starting to long for some sort of biker companionship and camaraderie.  Realizing I have been a solo bird for so long, I just would love to start building and maintaining some neat road friendships.  I miss my riding friends back home.  I miss having stories to share with others cause we went through it together.  I just miss stuff.


To comfort these cold lonely winter days, I spent the day replacing some blown rocker box gaskets.  I woke up late cause I set my alarm for pm, instead of am.  Drove across town for a rocker box gasket kit.  $66.66 later, I had a complete H-D rockerbox gasket kit that came with two sets of gaskets for 3 types of sportsters.  I'm already looking at this as supplying my motorcycle shop walls.  Then when I got home, I realized I had to put my piston at Top Dead Center  Compression before I took my lower rocker housing off, this prevents the push rods from damage during disassembly and assembly.

This'll do for now.

Anyway, that's when I then left my mess and ran to the store to buy a bike jack, cause I was tired of always calling this one guy just to use his.  And what I learned in school, is that if you have to ask 3 times to borrow something, you need to go buy one for yourself.  So today was that day.  Plus I just hate asking people for things.  So now I got my floor jack.  Up went the bike,  and off came the rockers.  Now, as I was looking into the spark plug hole at the top of my Piston, I noticed that it looked nastier than I'd wanted it to, but not as nasty as I needed to maintain it now, so I'm sure I'll be doing a tear down before I completely leave Phoenix.  Today the pressing issue was the blown rocker gaskets, so I just wanted to stick with that.  Plus I got to play with my new torque wrench.  I got my gaskets all on, and everything torqued down.  And first thing in the morning, I'm doing an oil/filter change and she's getting new HD spark plugs, and then we're going on a little date.  (AKA, take her for a little spin around town,  cause we deserve it.)


So for my new years resolution: to hang out at more coffee shops.  I will also try as much as possible to make some epic campout adventures to events back home, hoping to meet up with old friends, make new ones, look forward to seeing them at next, and next, and next events, and then hopefully maybe, too, Arizona will yield me some like minded adventurers and my road camaraderie dreams will be fulfilled.

And although, I love my training and school, I do have an itchy travel bone, and so I'm counting down the days till summer 2014 when I will have nothing to do but ride my little butt off.

Who's along for the ride???

49 Year Ride - Generations On The Road - Starring S&J Motorcycles from Clutch Monkey on Vimeo.

Tortilla Flat, and a flat tire.

      This weekend was me making that second attempt at trying to reach Roosevelt Lake, via exploring the famous Apache Trail or also called the Arizona 88, carved through the eastern mountains past and beyond the Superstition mountains.  It's a historical route where cattle drives once thrived through those canyons and rough terrain.  Ancient remains of cattle storage corrals lead you along the trail.  Old chopped trees and coarse posts, wound with old barbed wire, where inside it's gates cowboys and cattle were safe at night from coyotes and other predatory desert creatures.  An old fire pit sits in the centers of one corral.  And a light layer of grass grows throughout the platform.
I rode through Apache Junction, one of those old western towns, where the historical customs are preserved, such as people ride their horses to town, and to the saloon, which is hopping on a Sunday afternoon, motorcycles and horses tied up outside.
     I didn't stop because I had just reached the beginning of my journey, and I had a few hours of light and warmth, and was destined to make it without a jacket.  
     Apache trail was paved yet bumpy.  I rode to the left and right sides of my lane to avoid the steady barrage of poor center lane maintenance, like trying to ride the back of a stegosaurus.  That was fine, I rode slow, because it's so windy up to the top of those ridges, that you can't go much faster than 30mph, which is a good speed to pull over at any moment to capture a photo of the view.  I pulled over a lot.  
     A beautiful ride, mostly blasted through flanks of redrock walls rising and falling along a snaking canyons.  Trying my hand at daredevilism, I took a photo with one hand, while throwing up a peace sign with my other one, while leaning into a corner.  Risky? So.  I landed the trick.  On to the next one. Wheelies, I need wheelies.  
     I wound down and around the cactus lined two-lane road.  Down along a beautiful lake with sheer redstone cliffs that looked like sweet cliff jumping (to your death) which I don't recommend, but hey, different strokes for different folks.  The lake was called Canyon Lake. The road rides along the south rim of the lake, and over a one lane bridge I raced to beat oncoming traffic.  
     After passing the lake, I came to Tortilla Flat, which was just a short line of some old wooden buildings, that used to and still is a hot spot along that route.  Serving great food and spirits every day of the week.  I rode through cause I was aiming for Roosevelt, or as far as I could make it.  About 4 windy miles past the road turned into dirt.  This is where I saw another cattle pen that I rolled up to for some pics.  It was just me up there, and the road was a few feet away, and only a sparse car, truck or van, would roll by.  There were a few bikes that I saw stopped where the pavement ended, but the only ones I saw take the dirt road other than myself were a crew of enduros.   I rode up a bit further to a summit, and then past that the road dropped into a canyon and disappeared beyond the features of the desert mountains 20 miles to Roosevelt and the backside 188 highway.  I would not make this trek today.  But I shot some photos at the summit, and headed back to Tortilla Flat, mainly cause my stomach wouldn't make the slow 20 miles to Roosevelt, and neither would my sunglasses in the quickly disappearing sunlight.  So I rode back down the dirt toward the western light.  
     I stopped this time, right in front of Tortilla Flat Saloon.  I walked around the wooden sidewalks and checked out the shops.  When I went in to the Saloon for some grub, I saw this empty saddle waiting for me.  So I hopped on, and ordered the "Cowboy burger" with cheese.  It was huge and delicious.  My company was travelers, which I didn't make anything but random eye contact with, and muttered no more than a polite, "please pass the ketchup and mustard, thank you."  I really enjoyed the interior decorating, of dollar bill lined walls, and old cowboy accoutrement.  Looks like all the live long history was living on those walls.  My kinda place.  I finished my burger, and got off the saddle, just to get back on mine, and head out for the last bit of light on the horizon.
       So now for the part about the flat.  When I woke up the next morning, I was headed somewhere, and I was getting my things all ready and I put the key in the bike, and moved the handle bars a little, and wow, was something like that really weird resistance feeling.  I looked down, and there it was, a flat tire.  I was like, Oh, damn.  That's a first.  So I was kinda proud of that moment, but still felt like my mission was foiled.  Everything happens for a reason.  So maybe that flat kept me off the road that day for even bigger detriment.  I even tried pumping it up, but my pump sucked, and couldn't push air, cause my nozzle was broken or something.  Anyway, I thought it super rad and ironic that I had ridden Tortilla Flat, and come back with a flat.  I thanked my lucky stars it didn't start leaking till I got it home.  I rolled my bike to school the next day, and repaired a big hole in my tube.  It kinda looked like a manufacturing break, but it was a nice round little puncture looking hole, like maybe a sharp cactus needle had snuck to it.  But I checked the inside of the tire for any stuck needly culprits, but didn't find a damn thing.   So that's why I thought it maybe had just broke loose with all that rough riding I'd done on that dirt road.   Feast your eyes on the photos, and enjoy.  Thanks for reading.

That's Superstition mountain to the deep left there.

On the edge of Canyon Lake.

Tortilla Flat

the chute.

What it feels like in the chute.

In the pen.

My kinda place.

This is that summit, before it drops the 20 miles to Roosevelt.

Look ma, no hands.

My kinda bar stool.

dig the old juke.

dollar walls.

Tortilla Flat, Superstition Saloon.  Super rad watering hole.

Love old towns and their hang man.

Riding back: western sun setting, on eastern tips.