This is a quick story of my travels and adventures, created as I have time and internet access. I am keeping a sort of voice-recorded journal as I travel, and those entries will later be turned into the full story of my travels.
Friday, June 11
I did my last test ride of the motorcycle this afternoon and decided that it was ready to hit the road. I had grandiose ideas of being able to pack all my stuff and hit the road by the following morning so that I could get to Nashville (and Waxhaw) on schedule, but as usual I underestimated the time it would take to get everything ready. I sorted and organized my stuff till 4am and then slept until 10am Saturday morning.
Saturday, June 12
I seem to remember that there was something that happened in the middle of the day that convinced me I wouldn't leave that day, but I forget what it was. At any rate, the whole day was spent getting ready, doing last-minute things to my motorcycle and packing and catching up on a few e-mails and such.
Sunday, June 13
I got about 4 hours of sleep, and was up around 7am, figuring that if I left by noon I could get to the REI in Reno, NV to exchange my sleeping bag and buy waterproof pack covers for my stuff. Well, for a number of reasons I didn't leave till 5pm that day, and so drove a different route, on a small state road through the high desert in Oregon and Nevada. I got to the small town of Beatty, OR, in the high desert about 4 hours from Medford and was the last customer at the gas station before it closed, and was informed that all the gas stations between there and Winnemucca NV (275 miles away) were closed for the night. My motorcycle goes a little over 100 miles on a tank, so I drove to Lakeview, OR, the next town with a gas station, and spent the night at a state park there, sleeping out under the stars. It was about 40 degrees when I woke up the next morning at daybreak.
Monday, June 14
I bought gas, lubed and adjusted my chain, and hit the road east through the most deserted area in the lower 48 states. I bought gas at every available gas station, and was told in Adel, OR that the next gas was just outside Winnemucca, 180 miles away. I drove to the small cluster of houses that is Denio, NV, and there was what used to be a gas station there, with a sign advising that the nearest gas was 22 miles north in Fields, OR. I had no choice but to drive to Fields and buy gas and then head to Winnemucca. I had just enough gas to get to Fields, and then just enough to get to Winnemucca. Interstate 80 goes through Winnemucca, so I was sure that was the last of my worries about no people and no gas stations. Highway 140 which I took through that area goes through some of the most weird and beautiful high desert country, and it was a really amazing drive. From Winnemucca I headed east on I-80 across Nevada. People, cars, exits, and gas stations were few and far between, but I was able to make it to the border with Utah, winding through the weird shark-tooth ridges of mountains between the great flat spaces in northern Nevada. I bought gas in Wendover, UT, right on the border, and headed across the Bonneville Salt Flats, which cover the entire northwest part of Utah. It was about 120 miles of perfectly flat white sand as far as you could see, bordered by purple mountains with sharp ridges in the distance. There is one gas station between Wendover and western Salt Lake City, and I got there after they closed, but they left the pumps on for credit card sales, so I was lucky to get gas there. I drove through Salt Lake City around 11pm, and climbed up through the mountains to Park City, where I stopped for gas. By this time it was getting quite cold, I was at around 7,000 feet elevation, but I was inspired to keep going to Evanston, WY, just 70 miles away. I was wearing all my warmest clothes, and when I got to Evanston at about 1am, I was freezing. Evanston is at 6,900 feet, and I slept out under the stars again, just in the grass on the side of a small road outside town.
Tuesday, June 15
It was 34 degrees when I got up with the sun again after about 4 hours of sleep, ate and bought gas and serviced my chain and headed east across Wyoming. I don't think I ever dropped below 5,000 feet, and was just barely keeping warm the whole day. Southern Wyoming is high desert punctuated by tall mountains, but it's more green with scrub brush than brown with sand and rocks like Nevada. I got to Nebraska in the late afternoon, and after a few hundred miles of Nebraska I stopped in the little town of Potter because I was so tired. I ate some tuna sandwiches (the staple of my diet while I'm on the road) and felt better and kept going. Around 8pm as the sun was setting, I drove into a large rainstorm, which alternately pelted me with huge intermittent drops and sprinkled steady smaller drops. After a few hours of this it began to get colder, and because of the rain and my lack of sleep in the past several days, I decided to get a motel room, so I stopped in North Platte for the night.
Wednesday, June 16
I had been afraid that sleeping in a bed under a roof would induce me to sleep in, which happened. I slept in until 10am, and as I was packing my things and servicing my chain, a lady asked me for help with her temperature sensor on her car, so I helped her for awhile and after buying gas and food I finally left around 1pm. At one of my gas stops in northern Missouri at around 9pm, I realized I had crossed the river and now it was humid and at low elevation so it wouldn't cool off at night, and I felt good so I decided to drive all night. I called my sister Naomi in Nashville (who I had been planning to stay with that night) and told her I'd decided to just drive straight through to Nashville, getting there sometime the next day. I kept driving, and by Kansas City around midnight I was tired and hungry, so at my gas stop I ate and slept for an hour or so on the grass next to the gas station, then headed east to St. Louis.
Thursday, June 17
The sun rose somewhere along the way, and I drove through St. Louis into Illinois around 8am. I drove through beautiful farmland in southern Illinois and southwestern Kentucky, and got to Nashville around 1pm, and it was raining. I stopped at the REI there and exchanged my large warm sleeping bag (which had been great in the cold high desert) for 2 smaller lighter bags which would be good for the hot humid east, and got waterproof pack covers so my stuff wouldn't get wet the next time I had to drive through rain. I stopped at my sister's and had lunch, and investigated why my clutch wasn't fully releasing, found out it was the clutch cable, and was very glad for the replacement I had brought along with me. After a few hours, I had the cable replaced and adjusted correctly, and the chain lubed and tightened. By this time I had tightened the chain as far as I could, and knew I would have to take out 2 links when I got to Waxhaw. I left Nashville at 6:30pm, hit a construction delay for almost an hour, just creeping forward. I was wearing 2 layers of clothes everywhere and my helmet, which is great for motorcycling at high speed even when it's warm, but I was pouring sweat as we sat there. Up until then, I had slept very little and was in the groove, had the mojo going, and could just keep riding. I felt the mojo drain out of me, and only made it a few hundred more miles before I got near the border with North Carolina at around 2am and was exhausted. I pulled off at an exit, parked my bike on the side of a nearly-deserted mountain road, and laid down on the asphalt wearing my rain gear, put my head on my small backpack and slept.
Friday, June 18
I woke up when it started raining, and pulled out my pack cover and put it over my head and went back to sleep. I woke up again when the sun rose, and felt better by this time so I got back on the bike and kept going. It rained most of the way through the mountains and cleared up by the time I was past Asheville, NC, and driving east on I-40 in the early morning with the rising sun shining in my face was very hard on my eyes, even with my sunglasses on. I got to Waxhaw around 10:30am, and my hosts weren't home, so I found a phone and called, went back to get the hidden key, and found some other friends there who were also staying there. I had a shower, unpacked the stuff from my motorcycle, and was able to actually do what I had pushed so hard in driving nearly straight through in order to do: I went to the airport to pick up a friend, and spent a few hours with her before going to the wedding rehearsal. I finally slept that night, and woke up the next day very tired and sore.
Saturday, June 19
This was the day of the wedding, which was taken up mostly with that.
Sunday, June 20
I went to church at a small Orthodox church in Charlotte with John Anderson, then had lunch with his parents at their house, and had a nap afterwards. Up until that nap, I had been very tired almost continuously for a week, but felt great when I got up that afternoon. I had planned to take 2 links out of my chain and head to Raleigh that evening, but when I found the clip on the master link was missing - broke off or popped off, I don't know - I realized I'd have to wait till Monday to get either a replacement master link or replacement chain. My chain was mostly worn out anyway, and my rear sprocket was getting worn out, so I decided I'd wait till Monday to see what the bike shops around had in stock before re-making my travel plans.
Monday, June 21
I decided to replace the chain, and knew my only opportunity to borrow a car to go get a new chain would be in the afternoon, so I slept in till 10am or so. Amazingly for a Monday, I found a bike shop open and they had the right size chain, their cheapest was $25. I knew I would have to replace the sprocket before long, so I got the cheap one and planned to replace both chain and sprocket together later. By 7:15pm I had the chain on and lubed and everything packed on the bike, and headed to Nashville. After dark and somewhere on I-40 east of the mountains, I drove through hard rain for about an hour before it started raining so hard all the traffic slowed down to 40 or 50mph, and many cars were pulling off the road to wait out the storm. I could see quite well through my helmet visor so I kept going, but after 15 or 20 minutes of this, water started to seep in between my helmet and jacket, between my gloves and sleeves, between my jacket and pants, and between my pants and boots. I got off at the next exit where there were no services, drove about 1/2 mile on the side road to a house with lights on, drove in their carport and parked the bike. An old man was sitting inside watching TV and didn't notice me. I didn't want to take off my helmet or any clothes, but was tired and had a short nap in a lawn chair under the roof. After 30 minutes or so, there was 2 inches of water on his carport and driveway, but the rain had let up, so I got back on the road. By the time I got to Asheville, NC, the roads were dry and I didn't see rain again that night. By the time I got to Nashville, I found that my pack covers had kept my bags totally dry, and my rain gear and the stuff I didn't have under pack covers had dried out completely.
Tuesday, June 22
Somewhere west of Knoxville around 1am, I was tired and found a gas station that was closed, and laid on the grass behind it and slept for 2 or 3 hours before continuing on. I got to Nashville around 5:30am, and went to sleep on my sister's couch just as her husband was getting up for work. I woke up later that day with my nephew and neice playing in the living room, and got up. That afternoon I went to my other sister's house just northwest of Nashville and spent the night with her and her new husband. On the way there, the bike was making a lot of popping sounds and backfiring, and my friend Steve in Oregon said I should check the points.
Wednesday, June 23
I had planned to leave for Dallas that morning, so I was up early and checked the points and found one of them was basically not opening, so adjusted that and it ran great. Upon lubing the chain, I found that the clip for the master link had fallen off again, on my brand new super cheap chain. I realized I wouldn't be able to do something about that and leave for Dallas that day and I was still very tired, so I had a nap. In the afternoon I decided to put JB Weld on the master link pins, and when that had set I went back to my sister Naomi's for the night.
Thursday, June 24
I left for Dallas at about 9:30am, and had to stop for a short nap twice before I got to Arkansas. Once I got past Memphis, though, I was feeling fully awake and was getting in the groove. In Little Rock, AR, I decided to lube and adjust my chain, and noticed the JB Weld had come off the master link pins. The master link was still in place, but it was free to work its way out, which would cause the chain to break, possibly while riding at highway speed. I decided I had done everything I knew of to hold the master link in place and it had failed, but the master link hadn't come out yet, so I just said a prayer and kept riding. Between Nashville and Dallas, the dark clouds, lightning, wind, and smell in the air all promised rain the whole time, but I rode through no more than a few brief sprinkles. I got to Dallas around 11:30 and was very tired.
Friday, June 25
I had a lot of fun playing with Genna, the 5-year-old daughter of the people I stayed with there, who I used to babysit a lot. In the afternoon I went to the shop where I worked when I lived in Dallas a year ago, and did a little minor work to a motorcycle I had left stored at the shop there, and got it running and ready to sell, which was a big part of the reason I needed to be in Dallas. My former boss at the shop said master link clips on chains basically always come off once the chain starts to wear, and suggested I use a ball peen hammer to mushroom out the ends of the master link pins, making them like rivets. I did that, and lubed and adjusted the chain, and hoped it would be the end of my worries about the chain.
Saturday, June 26
I intended to leave as early as possible, thinking that would be 9am or so. Genna wanted to keep playing, and invented a lot of distractions to keep me there. By the time I was ready to go at around 11am, it was pouring rain. I sat around, trying to motivate myself to say goodbye and head out in the rain, and left around noon. It rained on and off through Texas and Oklahoma, and I had to stop twice to have a short nap. I stopped at a "travel center" on the turnpike in Kansas at around 6pm and had a snack and laid under the bench in McDonald's and slept for an hour or so. When I got up I realized I had been laying on the bite valve of my Platypus and it had poured out water all over the floor all around me. I was still wearing my raingear so I hadn't noticed. I got to Kansas City at around midnight and found a Wal-Mart where I bought some oil, and found a dark place behind a JC Penney outlet store nearby and rolled out my Thermarest under a semi trailer.
Sunday, June 27
I woke up around 6am to light rain, and a guy walking through the area told me the police come every morning to arrest homeless people there. I quickly packed and headed out. On the way north, it sprinkled a few times and was cloudy and cool all the way to St. Paul. Somewhere in Iowa, I noticed the bike popping and backfiring again, and as I got off the interstate to adjust the points, the backfiring pushed the silencer out of the muffler. I had noticed earlier that the screw holding it in had vibrated out, but it seemed pretty solid so I didn't mess with it. Fortunately, it didn't fall out on the road, it just hung out the back of the muffler. I jammed it back in and rode to the gas station, adjusted the points, and since I had forgotten to bring a wire clothes hanger with me, I put a zip tie in the hole to hold the silencer in place. At my next gas stop, I noticed the zip tie had broken, but since the bike wasn't backfiring anymore, the silencer was staying in place. I got to St. Paul around 5pm and unloaded everything.
Monday, June 28
Emily and I wanted to leave on our camping trip as early as possible, which after all the preparations turned out to be 5pm. I got a wire hanger and wrapped it through the hole like a twist-tie, and hoped it wouldn't break. I had lubed and adjusted my chain several times and it was adjusted as tight as it could go and was still a bit loose as we headed north to go camping. The bike was surprisingly capable of carrying both of us and our camping gear at highway speeds. We got to the parking lot around 11pm, hiked into our campsite, set up the tent, and while we were making sandwiches, it started getting light. We went to bed soon after.
Tuesday, June 29 - Saturday, July 3
My only comments about this time is that Emily and I were camping and hiking on the North Shore of Lake Superior on the Superior Hiking Trail. Emily may want to write the story of this time, which if so, will be inserted in this space.
Sunday, July 4 - Thursday, July 15
During this time, I was living with Morris and Wendy Johnson, Emily's parents, and working for Arvid Westfall, a friend of theirs who is building a house. His new house is north of the Cities, and it took me about 50 minutes to drive the 42 miles each way. As I had tightened the chain as much as it would go before I left to go camping, the chain was now very loose. I didn't have an extra master link to replace the one I had ball-peened, and didn't have money for a new chain, so I just said a prayer and drove around. After just a few days, the chain popped off the rear sprocket on the dirt roads near Arvid's, and I put it back on. 2 days later, the chain popped off again before I got even a few miles from home, so I came back and went to the local bike shop, got a master link, took 2 links out of the chain and put it back on. It was still worn way beyond the service limit, but at least now it was tight. Several times during those 2 weeks, I had to stop to adjust the points. A day or 2 before I was going to leave for Chicago, one of the screws that holds the points cover on was stuck, and I stripped the head of it trying to remove it. At home I cut a slot in the screw and removed it, and bought stainless steel socket head bolts to replace the points cover, and socket head bolts to replace the screws that hold the points on. I hoped that the extra pressure of the socket head bolts would hold the points plate in place.
Friday, July 16
I got up late, and had gotten paid the day before, so I bought a chain from the local bike shop. This time I got an O-ring chain, for $100, and 2 extra clip-type master links. It took a few hours and literally tons of pressure to get the side plate on, but at least now I'm sure it won't pop off. I packed and left around 5pm. Somewhere in western Wisconsin, I had to stop to adjust the points - apparently the socket head bolts weren't holding any better than the screws, although they were a lot easier to deal with. Another motorcyclist came by and said he had ridden up from Madison and had gone through a lot of rain, so I put on my rain gear. The forecast was for scattered showers, and several times I rode through light sprinkles and wet roads, but it never actually rained. I got to Chicago at about 1am, and the chain was just barely less tight than when I had put it on, so I was impressed and glad I got an O-ring chain this time.
Saturday, July 17
This was the day of the wedding. My brother in law's brother Jeremy Swift, who I had known in Peru, and who has become Orthodox in the past few years, was getting married in a Serbian Orthodox monastery just north of Chicago. My sister and brother in law Naomi and Jon Swift had come from Nashville, and we all stayed in Jeremy's apartment. The wedding was very neat, a traditional Orthodox service. The monastery chapel was very beautiful, covered in icons, and I think a lot of the family members who were not Orthodox were impressed by the beauty of the chapel and the service. This was the first Orthodox wedding I've been to, and I was impressed by the seriousness and realness of it, which matches my experience in Orthodox Liturgy services.
Sunday, July 18
I went with some of Jeremy's friends to All Saints Orthodox Church, where Jeremy goes, and enjoyed the service, which was a bit different than the services I'm used to since it's an Antiochian church. After coffee hour I went back to Jeremy's apartment and had a nap, and left about 5:30pm. I had been very frustrated with the toll roads on my way into Chicago, so I decided to avoid them and drive on secondary roads to Wisconsin. I didn't have a map, so I had to stop a few times and look at maps in gas stations to figure out where to go, but I made it, and was less frustrated, and saved a few dollars. I had to stop and adjust the points again somewhere in Wisconsin, and got back to the Cities around 1:30am. The chain was slightly loose now, but not in real need of tightening, so I was again glad I had gotten a high-quality chain.
Monday, July 19 - Tuesday, August 3
I again lived with the Johnsons and worked for Arvid Westfall on his house. I made plans to leave on August 4 in order to get to Maine at the start of the blueberry season. The weekend before, I changed the oil and filter. I've put over 8,000 miles on the bike since leaving Medford, and although I'm using synthetic oil, it was time for a change. I also put the rivet-type master link on the chain since the clip-type I was using was not moving freely. The chain (which hadn't been adjusted since I put it on 1,000 miles before) was still tight enough to not need adjustment, so I changed the master link without loosening the rear wheel. I also turned both sprockets around to use the non-worn sides of the teeth, so I have effectively a new chain and sprockets. I cleaned and re-oiled the air filters, which had not been done in the 2 months and 8,000 miles since I left Medford. I was surprised at the huge amount of dirt that came out of them. I also took off the points and put nail polish between the adjustable plate and the backing, and hoped that would prevent the points from moving again, as they seemed to do constantly. With that, the bike was ready for the next 6,000 miles of my trip, traveling to Maine and back to Medford.
Wednesday, August 4
I packed up everything and got it ready to go, made lists of directions to avoid toll roads, and did other preparations for traveling. I was surprised how "settled in" I had gotten and how much time it took to get ready to go again.
Thursday, August 5
I left at around 9am, and everything was going well until that evening when I was stopped by a police officer in Ohio. The backlight on my speedometer had burned out, so I had been estimating my speed based on my tachometer, and assumed I had been speeding. The officer had actually stopped me for having no tail light. I didn't have a spare with me, so I took a bulb out of one of my turn signals and put it in the tail light, the officer gave me directions to a Wal-Mart that was on my way where I could get a replacement bulb, and I thanked him and kept going. I bought replacement tail light and turn signal bulbs at the Wal-Mart, and got to the Webb's after midnight.
Friday, August 6
I spent the day with Rachel and Nathan Webb, and enjoyed seeing a glimpse of their life.
Saturday, August 7
I left around 11am and made good time through Ohio and Pennsylvania. I had no trouble with my chain or my points, the chain was still tight enough, I had lubed it every 500 miles or so, and was glad to have found a solution to what had been such a pain earlier. I got to the monastery around 9pm and was greeted by bishop Tikhon, who pointed me to the seminary dorms. I talked to one of the seminarians for awhile and was glad to get a "real person" perspective on life there.
Sunday, August 8
I attended the liturgy service at the monastery that morning. Metropolitan Herman served, and a number of people from the area, not specifically associated with the monastery, attended. I had lunch and supper with the monks, and talked to Bishop Tikhon for awhile in the afternoon and wandered around the area visiting the many shrines. It was a neat way to see the life of the monastery.
Monday, August 9
After the morning liturgy service, I had breakfast and left around 11am. Around 2pm, I was near Newburgh, NY, and got off at an exit marked "last exit before toll". I had planned to avoid all toll roads, so I wanted to look at a map to see if I had made a mistake. When I got off, I noticed the back of the bike was wobbling all over the place, and found I had a flat tire. I had brought a repair kit and a tire pump, so I took off the rear wheel and tire, patched the hole, inflated the tire, put it back together and mounted it on the bike. After I got packed up, I checked the air pressure again, and it had dropped from 40psi to 25psi, so I knew it was still leaking. I put a can of fix-a-flat in it, re-inflated it, and it was still leaking. By this time it was nearly 6pm, but I found a bike shop in the phone book that was open and had the right tube, so I inflated the tire and drove down there and got the tube. I went down the street to the Wal-Mart to change the tube in their parking lot, and one of the guys from the tire center came over with a bigger tire iron to help me. We pinched the tube while we were putting it back on, so I had to take it off again and run (literally) down to the bike shop again, got there just before they closed, and got another tube. This time the guy at Wal-Mart used their tire machine to mount the tire after we got the new tube in, and that worked. By then it was after 9pm, and I knew I wasn't going to make it to Maine that night. My uncle lives in Goshen, about 30 miles away, but I didn't have his phone number and hadn't been there in 13 years. I drove down there, and somehow remembered how to get to his house in the dark, and surprised him and his wife. Their son and his 2 kids were there for a few days, so I got to say hi to them also. I spent the night on their floor.
Tuesday, August 10
I left around 9am, and traveled again without a hitch to Harrington, Maine, where I would be raking blueberries for a few weeks. I got there around 9pm, and all but 2 people were already in bed since they have to get up at 5am, and since it didn't look like it would rain, I slept outside on my Thermarest.
Wednesday, August 11 - Thursday, August 19
During this time I was in Harrington, Maine, camping and raking blueberries. The blueberry season was not nearly as good as it often is, due to the harsh winter and a late frost, so it was harder to rake, and nobody was able to make as much money as usual, since we are paid by the box. There were several days when it was raining too hard to rake, so on those days I went with friends who were there to different places. One day I went to Eastport, ME, (the easternmost city in the USA) and took a ferry across to Deer Island, NB, in order to see the largest whirlpool in the western hemisphere. The whirlpool is created by the tides rushing into the spaces between the nearby offshore islands, but we couldn't see it because the strong winds were creating high waves that day. On the way back we stopped in Machias and I found a wool sweater at a thrift store where all the sweaters were free, so I got it as extra insulation for motorcycling. Another day we went to Bar Harbor and visited some of the shops, climbed Dorr Mountain and Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park, and visited a brew pub where we refilled a few bottles of good dark stout we had bought locally. We had a few other fun adventures also.
Friday, August 20
I knew I had to leave on Sunday, August 22 at the latest in order to get back to Eugene for Elisabeth and Glenn's wedding, but since the blueberry raking wasn't very profitable and since I expected to run into at least one problem that would delay me on my way back west, I decided to leave a few days early. I got up early as we always do when raking blueberries, packed all my stuff, went by the blueberry fields to say goodbye to everyone, and headed out around 1pm. I drove northwest through Maine on small state roads, following the Kennebec river valley, crossing the Appalachians, and into Quebec. Everyone says Maine is beautiful, but I hadn't really thought it was very remarkable until I drove through the western part, in the mountains near Quebec, with deep forests on hillsides and beautiful lakes and rivers. I crossed into Quebec at dusk, and drove through the countryside which was mostly farms, going through Sherbrooke on my way to Montreal. I tried to drive around and find a bank that was open to exchange my US money for Canadian dollars, but had no luck. Near midnight, at a gas station west of Sherbrooke, I found out that few people in Quebec speak English, and despite my rudimentary knowledge of French from highschool and my ability to read all the road signs and most of the billboards, I couldn't speak or understand French even enough to ask for a bank. However, I also found out that gas stations will accept US money to pay for gas, so I bought gas with my American money (at a horrible exchange rate) and decided to try to find a bank the next day. I was quite tired, and found a spot in the grass behind the gas station to lay down for awhile. After sleeping for about 2 hours, I woke up with rain falling on me, but I was still very tired, so I moved under a picnic bench and kept sleeping until about 5am when the picnic bench started dripping on me. I got up and felt better, so I got back on the bike and headed to Montreal.
Saturday, August 21
I drove through Montreal as the sun was rising behind me, and crossed into Ontario soon afterwards. I was surprised to see that all the road signs in Ontario are in both French and English, since I hadn't seen English on road signs or billboards anywhere in Quebec. I drove through Ottawa around 9am, and realized that since it was Saturday, none of the banks would be open. I headed west on the Trans-Canada across Ontario, through rolling farmland. I stopped for gas at the little town of Cobden, and realized I had to adjust my points for the first time since I had been in St. Paul. As I was working on it, a Harley rider came over and asked if I needed help. I explained I was just adjusting the points, and he said I needed star-pattern lockwashers, and he had a few of the right size at home just around the corner. I followed him there, and he gave me them, and I put them on tightly, hoping that would hold the points in place. I continued on west, and planned to buy gas in Sudbury, but didn't realize the highway actually went a ways around the town, staying out in the countryside. I figured there would be a gas station on the highway, but didn't find one for over 20 miles, and ran out of gas near the bottom of a hill. I pushed the bike off the side of the road, and just as I did, a couple in a pickup stopped and asked if I needed help. They said there was a gas station just over the top of the hill, and took me there. They knew the owner of the station, and arranged for me to borrow a gas can to fill the bike and return it on my way back. They took me back to the bike, I put in the gas, went back to the gas station, returned their gas can and filled up with gas. The gas station was called "The Blueberry Station" and they sold local wild blueberries and related things. I asked and found they were the same type of lowbush wild blueberries I had just been raking in Maine, and they grew wild everywhere in that area. I kept heading west, pushing through strong headwinds all the way, hoping to make it across the border back into the USA in Sault Ste. Marie before stopping for the night. I got to the border around 11pm, and was freezing despite wearing all my warmest clothes. I decided to look for a restaurant to sit and make sandwiches before looking for a place to spend the night, and as I was about to turn right into a Burger King, a van hit me from behind. We were both only going about 10mph, and fortunately I hadn't started leaning the bike over into the turn yet, so I was able to keep it upright. The van was a shuttle van for a local casino, taking a couple back to their hotel for the night. He had hit my luggage rack with his grill and headlight, and had broken his headlight, but there was no damage to my bike. We waited for awhile while he called his company, then we went to the police station just down the road to report the incident. We both told what had happened, they inspected our papers and the vehicles, and said they'd contact us if necessary. I never found out the official story as the police recorded it, but I imagine since it was the van driver's fault and the only damage was to his vehicle, there was no need for me to do anything. I found a spot just south of there in a farmer's field, made sandwiches, and although it was a clear and night, it was near 40 degrees and the dew was falling fast, so I decided to pitch the rainfly and footprint of my tent and cover my gear with my rain covers.
Sunday, August 22
I had set my alarm for 5am, since that was when I was used to the sun rising in Maine, but I had traveled over 1,000 miles west and was still in the same time zone, so it was still pitch black when my alarm rang, and it was also raining and very windy. I turned off the alarm and kept sleeping, and woke up again at 9am. It was still cold and windy and cloudy, but the rain had stopped, so I got up, packed and left. I stopped in St. Ignace for gas and groceries, and as I was walking past the magazine rack, I read this quote at the top of a magazine: "Surprising myself, I press on the blade and slowly draw the knife across my forearm. Nothing happens. I press harder. Back and forth, I vigorously saw...When I consider that I am going to die in a matter of hours, it rings true..." I knew who that quote was from although I hadn't heard or read it before, and had to pick up the magazine and read the article. It was the
September 2004 issue of Outside Magazine, an excerpt from Aron Ralston's book about his ordeal being trapped in a canyon in Utah by a boulder pinning his hand to the side of the canyon. After 6 days with no food and little water, he broke his arm bones and cut off his hand and got out, making headlines. Having read that, I felt my own little journey and pain was as nothing, and headed west across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, with some great views of the north shore of Lake Michigan. I crossed into Wisconsin around 4pm, and drove through a lot of national forest land, getting into Minnesota near 9pm and back to Johnson's at around 11pm. I was glad to sleep inside after being outside for weeks and being cold on my motorcycle for days.
Monday, August 23
I slept in, as all I had to do was adjust my carburetors for the higher elevation I was about to drive through, and adjust my points again. I bought new bolts, a different type of lock washers, and Loc-tite, and hoped that would hold the points in place.
Tuesday, August 24
I left around 9am, heading west across Minnesota and North Dakota. The land turned slowly from forest to rolling farmland to flat farmland to flat plains to bumpy plains, getting drier all the time. My goal was to get into Montana before stopping, and I crossed the border just after sunset, bought gas, and kept going until I got to Miles City and was too cold to stay on the bike, so I found a spot off a side road and pitched my rainfly and tent footprint and camped for the night.
Wednesday, August 25
I got up around 8am and was on the road by 9am. About an hour later, just east of Forsyth, I unexpectedly ran out of gas right at a weigh station, having gone less than 25 miles on my reserve tank (I usually go 30-40 miles on the reserve before filling up). I started walking towards town with my thumb out, and a trucker picked me up and took me to town. At the gas station (one of 2 in town) as I bought a gas can and filled it, the attendant asked if I had run out of gas and offered to take me back to my bike, which I gladly accepted. I went back to the gas station, filled both the motorcycle tank and the gas can, and headed west. Just 8 miles away, in a 35mph construction zone, in the rain, right at an exit, I noticed my rear tire was flat. From my experience in New York, I figured my patch kit probably wouldn't work, and I figured the nearest bike shop where I could buy a tube was probably in Billings, 100 miles west. I rode the bike at about 2mph up the exit ramp and parked it in a parking lot used by the construction crew to store their stuff. Preparing to hitch-hike to Billings and back, I sorted what I wanted to take with me and put it in my hiking pack, and started walking west with my thumb out. I walked a mile or 2 down to where the construction crew was paving the road, talked to a few of them, and found out there was a bike shop in Miles City, 50 miles east. I started walking back east, and after about a mile, one of the construction workers picked me up on her way back to Forsyth. She was off work for the day, and took me to a few places in Forsyth where it had been suggested someone could help me, but with no luck. I called the bike shop in Miles City and they had the tube I needed, and the lady who picked me up took me back to the construction crew where I asked around and found someone who lived in Miles City and would be going back there that night who agreed to take me there. I went back to where my motorcycle was, made some sandwiches, took a nap, and waited as it rained off and on all afternoon until I got a ride back to Miles City. I walked up to where the bike shop was, and found a spot in a cow pasture behind the shop to camp for the night.
Thursday, August 26
I got up at 9am, packed my stuff, bought 2 tubes at the bike shop, and walked back to the interstate and stood on the entrance ramp for about 30 minutes before an older man picked me up. He was only going to Forsyth, so he dropped me off there, and I decided that since I was only 6 miles from my motorcycle, I'd just start walking and hope to be picked up. It rained off and on, and I walked for about 2 and a half hours with my thumb out, and nobody picked me up. I got back to my motorcycle and was very glad to take off my pack and rest and eat. Near 3pm I started working on changing the rear tube. I was very careful to get the tube in the right place, keeping it away from the tire iron, but when I started pumping it up, it didn't hold any air. I didn't want to put on the other tube for fear of pinching it also, and by this time I had already done everything I could think of to do, and knew that I was very close to missing the wedding I had given up so much and worked so hard to attend. I laid down on the ground and cried, praying in desperation for something to happen to save me from being stuck for the past 2 days. Just then an RV drove in and the guy asked me if I needed help. I brushed the tears away and told him I'd been doing what I could for 2 days and just now was in a place where I didn't know if there was anything else I could do. He consulted with his daughter and offered to take me to their house, 29 miles to the south in Colstrip, give me a place to stay and food, but couldn't promise a ride back or any help with my tire. He said there was a tire shop in town, so we threw my tire and my stuff in the RV and took off. He had to teach a CPR class and was going to be late because he had picked me up, but said that was fine. I took a shower, made some supper for us 3, read my e-mail, and had a great night's sleep.
Friday, August 27
Karlee had to go to Forsyth in the morning to get a prescription filled, so after taking me to the tire place and getting my tube in properly, she dropped me off at my bike. I put on the tire and packed things up and started west again at about noon. It seemed strange to be flying down the road so fast again after having been so hopelessly stuck in one spot, and walking along the road so much. I hit the mountains just west of Billings, but most of the time I was driving past them, not through them - snowcapped peaks in the distance, but small hills nearby. I got to Missoula just before 9pm and went to the REI to return a pair of gloves, but found they had closed at 8pm. I went just west of town and found a house that was being built with no garage doors yet. I rolled my bike in and rolled out my Thermarest and slept.
Saturday, August 28
I got up at 7am and was on the road at 8 after breakfast. West of Missoula, the mountains closed in and became similar to the forested green mountains here in Oregon, and the highway climbed to a pass at the border with Idaho. I drove through Idaho without even putting my feet on the ground - the first time the whole summer I had gotten through a state without stopping. I stopped for gas in Spokane and returned my gloves at the REI there - I needed the money for gas to get back home. West of Spokane, it quickly turned to rolling desert farmland, and I saw a lot of huge dust devils. I crossed the Columbia river into Oregon around 2pm, and headed west on 84 through the gorge. Soon I crested a hill and saw Mt. Hood shimmering in the distance, over 100 miles away, and I knew I was close to home. I fought strong gusty winds all through the Columbia river gorge, and got to a place near Corvallis where I'd be spending the night with friends at about 8pm.
Sunday, August 29
After breakfast, we all drove down to where the wedding was, near Eugene. There were a few last-minute preparations to be made before the ceremony started at 2pm. Afterwards, the reception was in a field bordered by forest, and included various games, competitions, and feats of strength. That evening there was a feast in a wooded glen with dancing and toasts afterwards.
Monday, August 30
We did some clean-up in the morning, had lunch, then had a treasure hunt for Gabe, Glenn's younger brother, then headed home. I got back at around 9pm, checked my email, and went to bed. After 11 weeks and almost 14,000 miles, it was good to be home.