My road wandering ways have gotten arrested for a month or so in Montana.
There's only one real problem with having the gypsy itch deep in your soul. No matter how Free you form up your life... Living ain't free. Simple and true, you have got to have some dollars.
When you pull into the towns for fuel, groceries, fresh jeans, tires and even the occasional wife for a night ;) all those places refuse to engage in charity. They demand dollars for their goods.
Soooo... until I manage to enjoy one of those "Breakouts", with one of my books, that tantalize a writers more mercenary parts... I have to stop and produce some bucks here and there to keep on moving.
This stop is being made in Sydney Montana for the annual beet harvest. A fella has the potential of squeezing out a few thousand in three weeks of work or so... so here I are... until near the end of the month then it's a quick haul to Phoenix for another week of work at the November NASCAR race at PIR (Phoenix International Speedway).
Hopefully, that'll all produce enough dinero to get some maintenance done on the Raider, like new fork seals, a valve adjustment and a new functional part or two for the improvement of long rides...
One thing I can tell you about sugar beets they stink ;) and, take one single walk through a "sugar factory" and you'll never put sugar in your mouth again! A grubbier, uglier place you've never seen than the inside of a sugar factory...
Maybe that'd be a good new diet plan... just take folks on a tour of a sugar plant... and let 'em see where all that gooey goodness that they're stuffing in their faces... came from! ;)
It's back to my skid steer and Piling Beets for me.
Brian
... Splitting the wind on a Motorcycle... Feeding my soul with the Healing power of the Open Road... following that twisting, Ribbon of Highway that leads me on...
Friday, October 4, 2013
Sunday, September 1, 2013
A Fuel sipping Power Cruiser, Camp Hunting and Cogitator lubrication
I had a couple of goals in mind while running north under the Montana sky. The first was to find a fresh camp for the next week or so.
The second was to test a theory.
The last few months it seemed to me that most of the time my fuel mileage was down quite a bit. While I'd grown accustomed to routinely breaking 50 mpg with the big cruiser, lately that number's been down 'round 45 a lot more. Hell, we generally still get 48 on the two up runs.
So, I was wondering if "something" on my gal was off a bit. Sonja seems to rumble the same tune she always has...but lately, it's like she's a bit thirstier.
I've Cogitated on the problem while lubricating my cogitator with a number of various brands of fine locally brewed lubricants... such as my latest find...
Heavy Horse Scotch Ale from the Big Sky Brewing Co. in Missoula Montana.
So... not only are Montanans blessed with their Big Sky, ... They've got a brewery that builds a damn fine ale to wind down with after a day on the saddle.
It might not be fair for one state to have so much!
Anyhoo... with Sonja whispering; The problem is not me! and the road that runs past our camp calling to come and play...
... I managed to devise a test. You see, I got to wondering if maybe... poooooosibly... I might have gotten a lil' heavy handed with my Girl here lately...
So I came up with this idea;
I'll ride to Hungry Horse and back... find a camp... and test Sonja's claim that the Problem didn't reside in her. I'll ride her steady and even and Cruise up that two lane between 60 and 65.
Well, on a bright and sunny Saturday morn I fired her up and we headed north, drinking the wind.
It got a lil' chilly, sunny as it was, in the vicinity of Swan lake so I pulled in for a minute to add my fleece under my jacket. Then it was hang on to that cruiser and follow the paint stripes to Hungry Horse.
Have you any idea how difficult it is to maintain 63 mph... in Montana? Especially when you got bozo minivan drivers who see no reason to pull across the center line when passing you until they're something less than fifteen feet behind you? arrrrggggghhhhh....
...and then... they see no worldly reason to actually go clean over into the other lane to make the pass? Like it will save tire rubber or something if they only go far enough to put two wheels across the line? ... and after all; "you ARE on a motorcycle! You can just move over and let me have half your lane! There's plenty of room! Stop being so hoggish!"
I have found a fairly effective method to coax them to actually put their entire car on the other side of the paint stripe as they pass though... this trip... a left foot raised as high as I could lift it, attached to a cocked knee... was apparently perceived as an intention to leave a size 9 boot print on an otherwise unblemished passenger door.
Their vee-hickle suddenly moved 36 inches in an away-from-me motion allowing my knee to uncock and the smile to return to my shaking head. Wanting to maintain civility and good humor I waved my forgiveness at the apparently lane dyslexia afflicted operator with the universal symbol of friendship and understanding... The Bird.
Without further excitement other than the sweeping road under that always Big Sky I made the turns from 83 onto 35 at Big Fork and then off of 35 onto 206 toward Columbia Falls. Caught Hwy 2 and turned east for the short run of maybe five miles to the access road that turns south to Hungry Horse Dam.
And it's a damn Fine Dam!
But beavers build those too, and my interest lay beyond... I was hunting my first goal... another camp so I kept rolling.
It turns out that my luck was running. Though the camps along that right bank you can see behind the dam are managed by private corporations... because... you know... the Forest Service... unlike the BLM is too busy not cutting timber to manage it's campgrounds... ;) ...
... They apparently don't lock these up at the end of the season. The folks at the visitor center on the damn assured me they're left open well into the fall.
So... I followed along the nicely twisting road (but mind your manners, there's gravel and deadfall trash on a lot of the bends in it) to check out three of 'em...
Sweet! Goal Number one is ticked off the list. Now, roll back into the lil' burg of Hungry Horse... choke down an A&W Burger and a big mug of Root Beer... and fuel up to check the stats on that Big Sky Brewing Co. lubricated Theory.
Sonja was whispering the truth.
I took a stick and stuffed all the fuel into her tank I could fit and then did my cipherin'. It tallied up 131.7 miles on 2.52 gallons = 52.26 MPG Ha Ha! Not too shabby for a big Ol' voluptuous Power Cruiser! :)
And... with that quandary put to rest... I could roll home a lot quicker than I left it behind. Yeah... we drank a good bit more wind going south than going north... and gaz-oh-lean! ;)
Yes sir... run her steady and even 'tween 60 and 65 and she sips at the fuel pump. But twist her up tighter... sail along in that country north of 80 a lot and she'll get thirstier. Still a respectable 45 or so... but it falls off when you get north of 65-70 a lot... and especially if you do that gettin' with a pretty athletic twist of that right hand.
Finished a sweet day at 223 miles and knowing Sonja was healthy... She just works up a thirst if she's workin' harder. What a surprise huh?
Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian
The second was to test a theory.
The last few months it seemed to me that most of the time my fuel mileage was down quite a bit. While I'd grown accustomed to routinely breaking 50 mpg with the big cruiser, lately that number's been down 'round 45 a lot more. Hell, we generally still get 48 on the two up runs.
So, I was wondering if "something" on my gal was off a bit. Sonja seems to rumble the same tune she always has...but lately, it's like she's a bit thirstier.
I've Cogitated on the problem while lubricating my cogitator with a number of various brands of fine locally brewed lubricants... such as my latest find...
So... not only are Montanans blessed with their Big Sky, ... They've got a brewery that builds a damn fine ale to wind down with after a day on the saddle.
It might not be fair for one state to have so much!
Anyhoo... with Sonja whispering; The problem is not me! and the road that runs past our camp calling to come and play...
... I managed to devise a test. You see, I got to wondering if maybe... poooooosibly... I might have gotten a lil' heavy handed with my Girl here lately...
So I came up with this idea;
I'll ride to Hungry Horse and back... find a camp... and test Sonja's claim that the Problem didn't reside in her. I'll ride her steady and even and Cruise up that two lane between 60 and 65.
Well, on a bright and sunny Saturday morn I fired her up and we headed north, drinking the wind.
It got a lil' chilly, sunny as it was, in the vicinity of Swan lake so I pulled in for a minute to add my fleece under my jacket. Then it was hang on to that cruiser and follow the paint stripes to Hungry Horse.
Have you any idea how difficult it is to maintain 63 mph... in Montana? Especially when you got bozo minivan drivers who see no reason to pull across the center line when passing you until they're something less than fifteen feet behind you? arrrrggggghhhhh....
...and then... they see no worldly reason to actually go clean over into the other lane to make the pass? Like it will save tire rubber or something if they only go far enough to put two wheels across the line? ... and after all; "you ARE on a motorcycle! You can just move over and let me have half your lane! There's plenty of room! Stop being so hoggish!"
I have found a fairly effective method to coax them to actually put their entire car on the other side of the paint stripe as they pass though... this trip... a left foot raised as high as I could lift it, attached to a cocked knee... was apparently perceived as an intention to leave a size 9 boot print on an otherwise unblemished passenger door.
Their vee-hickle suddenly moved 36 inches in an away-from-me motion allowing my knee to uncock and the smile to return to my shaking head. Wanting to maintain civility and good humor I waved my forgiveness at the apparently lane dyslexia afflicted operator with the universal symbol of friendship and understanding... The Bird.
Without further excitement other than the sweeping road under that always Big Sky I made the turns from 83 onto 35 at Big Fork and then off of 35 onto 206 toward Columbia Falls. Caught Hwy 2 and turned east for the short run of maybe five miles to the access road that turns south to Hungry Horse Dam.
And it's a damn Fine Dam!
But beavers build those too, and my interest lay beyond... I was hunting my first goal... another camp so I kept rolling.
It turns out that my luck was running. Though the camps along that right bank you can see behind the dam are managed by private corporations... because... you know... the Forest Service... unlike the BLM is too busy not cutting timber to manage it's campgrounds... ;) ...
... They apparently don't lock these up at the end of the season. The folks at the visitor center on the damn assured me they're left open well into the fall.
So... I followed along the nicely twisting road (but mind your manners, there's gravel and deadfall trash on a lot of the bends in it) to check out three of 'em...
Sweet! Goal Number one is ticked off the list. Now, roll back into the lil' burg of Hungry Horse... choke down an A&W Burger and a big mug of Root Beer... and fuel up to check the stats on that Big Sky Brewing Co. lubricated Theory.
Sonja was whispering the truth.
I took a stick and stuffed all the fuel into her tank I could fit and then did my cipherin'. It tallied up 131.7 miles on 2.52 gallons = 52.26 MPG Ha Ha! Not too shabby for a big Ol' voluptuous Power Cruiser! :)
And... with that quandary put to rest... I could roll home a lot quicker than I left it behind. Yeah... we drank a good bit more wind going south than going north... and gaz-oh-lean! ;)
Yes sir... run her steady and even 'tween 60 and 65 and she sips at the fuel pump. But twist her up tighter... sail along in that country north of 80 a lot and she'll get thirstier. Still a respectable 45 or so... but it falls off when you get north of 65-70 a lot... and especially if you do that gettin' with a pretty athletic twist of that right hand.
Finished a sweet day at 223 miles and knowing Sonja was healthy... She just works up a thirst if she's workin' harder. What a surprise huh?
Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian
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