Cycle News - Archive Issues - 2000's

THE TRIP We planned our trip around a family reunion that my family was having in my home state of Colorado - Winter Park was to be our ultimate destination. Our route would take us from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, and then through Utah, via Zion National Park and Bryce National Park, and then along 1-70 into Colorado. We left L.A. late on a Wednesday afternoon, right in the middle of rushhour traffic, which wasn't smart. We had to pick our way across the L.A. basin for 60 miles on an unfamiliar bike loaded to the gunwales. As it turns out, this was the worst part of the trip, so it was nice to get it out of the way up front. We headed up 1-15 to Vegas, and by the time we got there, Karen's butt was already killing her. Our bike didn't have the optional "comfort seat," but I wasn't about to tell her that one existed. We had decided to take a leisurely three days to get out to Colorado, and then planned to get back in two. We stayed in Vegas the first night after riding through stifling heat late into the evening - 106 degrees in Baker, California, site of the world's tallest thermometer - at 8 p.m. It was a huge relief to walk into our Las Vegas hotel, because in the summer the air conditioners tend to be set to the "meat locker" setting. The next day, we headed out to Zion National Park and did the express tour. We were on a tight time schedule, and we had been to Zion before, but riding through the park on a bike was amazing. The splendor of the park was multiplied a hundred times on a bike, because we didn't have the roof of a car to get in the way of our vision. The cool thing about Zion is that you can ride through most of the park on a bike and get the full effect. However, the tightest, best part of the park requires that you hop on a shuttle bus, and that defeated our purpose, so we were out of there. Our next stop was Bryce Canyon, just up the road from Zion. Utah has to be one of the most beautiful and scenic states in the country, and just the southern half of the state will blow you away with its majestic national parks. We pulled into Bryce National Park and were forced to park the bike to get a good look into the canyon, but it wasn't too hard to convince Karen to get off the bike; she was ready for that whenever the opportunity presented itself. We had both been to Bryce before, so once again our visit was cut short due to our time schedule - our next stop was a couple hundred miles away: Green River, Utah. We made Green River just after dark, much to the displeasure of Karen, who didn't like the tight canyons with deer-warning signs every mile or so at night. We were so worn out that we didn't have the energy to go out to eat, so we had a pizza delivered to our room. That was a good move. The next morning, we slept in, because we only had about 350 miles to cover that day and we needed to let our butts recover as long as we could. We had a leisurely cruise into Colorado, which was nice for a change. I'll never forget the faces of my parents, who were unloading their car at the hotel at which were meeting them when we pulled in. They had been worrying about our trip as parents tend to do and the sight of us there, still intact, was obviously a big reUef. We were beat, and the idea of a dip in the pain anymore. We spent three hours of our day off the bike looking for padded cycling shorts, and something to make her seat plusher (the bike's seat, actually). We went everywhere trying to find something soft that we could attach to the seat. Somehow, we ended up in a hardware store, wandering the aisles and waiting for something to grab our attention. And there it was - industrial-size cleaning sponges... I had an idea. We ended up making a fully custom, aftermarket touring seat of our own brilliant design. We bought two of the sponges and taped them together and then took a heavy-duty vinyl bag and put it over the pillion seat and neatly taped it all together underneath. It worked perfectly, and for the remainder of the trip Karen would be riding in Laz-E-Boy comfort, sans the Ottoman. wasn't fun, but we were making really good time. We were planning on stopping for the night in St. George, Utah, but I began to wonder if it was possible to get a beer in Utah on a Sunday. I was working out my tactics to convince Karen to suck it up for another 40 miles - so that we could get into Nevada - as we approached St. George. To my surprise, before I even gave her my pitch, she motioned for me to keep going, as she was doing okay. "Perfect!" I thought. By the time we got into the "State 0' Sin," Nevada, we had covered close to 700 miles for the day, and most of it was in hot and windy conditions. I can't even begin to tell you how good the hotel pool felt. The hotel was called The Oasis, and at the time I believed the marquee, despite the $19.99 room rate. The next morning, we got the hell out of Hell, first thing, so that we could avoid as much of the searing heat as possible. It was a good idea, except that the morning wind was blowing unbelievably hard for the first 100 miles and felt like a blast fum ace. Riding leaned over and going in a straight line gets old in a hurry, especially when you pass big rigs and get sucked into their air pockets. We made great time after the wind died down, and we rolled into Los Angeles before we had to endure another rush hour. We ended our journey without incident, which was completely amazing to me. I figured that, because I had Karen along, something bad would happen that would eliminate the possibility of her ever going on a trip like this again - not because she was bad luck or anything, but just because of Murphy's Law - but nothing, not a single thing, went wrong: no tickets, no rain, no flat tires, no tip-overs, and the bike was as' reliable as I would expect a BMW to be. Furthermore, when we returned, we both declared the trip a complete success, with Karen telling everyone who would listen that she had a great time. SO WHAT ABOUT THE BIKE? hot tub was impossible to resist. After a few beers in the hot tub, we finally started to feel human again. (Above) A Gennan lost in Paris· Paris, Las Vegas, that is. CUSTOM ACCESSORIES GOING HOME We had an entire day during which we didn't even have to look at the bike, which was nice. However, we had to figure out a solution to the pain-in-the-butt Karen, or was that the pain in Karen's butt (ooops!)? If she just had a bigger ass, she would've been better off, although I wouldn't be around to share in her . We knew that going back was going to be brutal, because we only had two days to cover just over 1000 miles. You lFOn Butt competitors out there may laugh, but we're amateurs, remember? We rode as long and fast as we could, trying to ride a full tank of gas between rest stops - which were 225 miles on the average. It cycl. ne To answer the original question, I was correct in liking. the RT; I wasn't confused by its large, adjustable fairing and electric-vest socket after all. The bike was really a pleasure to ride and I'm glad that we chose to ride it. The bike ended up being the perfect choice for the trip. We were able to pack everything we needed for the trip in the hard bags - even Karen's laptop computer, which she needed for her grad-school homework. As far as comfort goes, I was fine, but as I mentioned, Karen felt the passenger seat left plenty of room for improvement, but overall the bike was comfortable. _ S • SEPTEMBER 19, 2001 49

• Cover