Saturday, July 16



Up and at 'em, but not so early. I left Limon about 9 a.m., heading to Wichita to meet Slider. She made the hotel arrangements in Wichita. I knew it would be hard for me to find it, being directionally-challenged and all. When I stopped for gas, I couldn't just gas, visit the rest room and go. I had to stay to cool down and drink water, and re-hydrate my vest. At one point the thermometer said 110 degrees; a few hours later it said 109. Yep, I sure could tell the difference.

I followed Highways 54/400. There's not much there. It's mostly very, very flat, and not even a lot of vegetation. Pretty boring. So why am I riding across flatland that is hotter than hell? I don't really know, except I really wanted to see Slider since I didn't get to see her last year.


I did stop at the Dodge City stop and they had a cooler with ice in the back that they said I could hydrate my vest and neck snakes. I was even putting it on my throat and down my shirt ... felt so good, for such a short period of time, though.


On the highway about 35 miles east of Dodge City, there's a long fence line that has all these metal sculptures on it. It's kind of like the sign farm at Watson Lake, but not nearly as large ... yet.

I took a photo of this sculpture because  of my boy Beagle Tuffy.

The whole fence and the sculptures are fascinating to see.  I'd have liked to spend more time, but didn't have it, and it  was just toooooo darned hot to be out in in standing or walking around.  It was bad enough to be riding in it.

Finally arrived about 7:30 at the hotel, after stopping at one to get directions. It was so good to see Slider. She'd had a blowout on her way up I-35, in Oklahoma. She showed me the tire and I had to say she was very lucky she wasn't killed as it was the right front tire that blew.


We went and grabbed a bite to eat, then ice cream for dessert, and to bed now since we both had a long, hard day. It's till 91 degrees. HOT!!!!!!

Friday, July 15


I hit the Casper, Wyoming shop early, to get my shirt, my pin and my poker chips. From there I made some calls to see if I could get the Harlow bike in for its thousand mile check up. I wouldn't quite be there, but didn't want to go over. The Greeley and Loveland shops were too busy to take me. The Frederick shop said come on down, so I told Brett I'd be there as soon as I could. It was about 250 miles.


No stops except gas, restroom and go, go, go. I ran Interstate 25 although I reallyon't like them, and have been on them entirely too much this trip. But the shop was on the interstate and would be easy to find. That's always a plus for someone like me who is directionally challenged.


I made excellent time and got to the shop about 2:30. I'd have been a few minutes earlier but missed the turn and had to go two miles to the next exit and back.


The Frederick shop, High Country HD, is a great shop. They had someone drive me to a place to get some lunch, and then told me to call them and they'd come pick me up. The bike was finished when I returned as they put two techs on it. I then asked about highway pegs to help keep my leg from getting fried by the heat from the engine. This shop was more than accommodating, and they were willing to take me in when the others wouldn't. I give them excellent marks. They even gave me a shortcut to get me out of town and away from the Denver area which even I could follow, and did, and did not get lost or turned around.


Although maybe I should have lowered those marks some. I'd told Brett that my bike looked like the Beverly Hillbillies. He then called my makeshift bag a "Clampett bag" after the hillbillies. I laughed out loud at him. Brett was very nice, and he reminded me of Matthew Perry, the general look, smile, and he was more than helpful.

The lovely Harlow with her Clampett bag and other things piled high.  Whoever invented cargo nets deserves a big kudo.  There are two of them on this load, and so far I've not lost but one thing, the top to a rain suit that I'd tossed the pants from since they were all torn up from the pipes.  Bag, stuff, helmet, jacket.  Think there's a water bottle under there, too.

I got back on the road and took Highway 70 to Limon, and decided it was time to get off the road for the night. I called my friend Slider in Texas. We worked out a route for us both that gives us about equal miiles to travel and we will meet in Wichita, Kansas. It will be about 400 miles for each of us. We'll spend the night, party hardy, and spend some time together on Sunday before she has to head back home.


On Monday my intent is to go to Topeka to see my friend Ruth whose bike died in San Jose. It's being shipped home, and she was working on getting military hops back to Topeka. I had a voicemail from her today that she was in Colorado and expected to be home Saturday. Wonder where she was, and if our paths were close to each other at some point today. I'll give her a call tomorrow again to see if we can meet to spend our gambling money. That's a story for when it happens.


This trip seems to be one of purchasing knives. So far I've bought five, or at least that's what I remember buying. Two of them go on the bikes, they are a kitchen-style with a sheath so will be easy to carry and not cut anything like a saddlebag liner. I've also got a knife that will attach to the webbing inside the webbing of the saddlebag. Then I picked up one that looks like a bullet. Why? I don't know. Cuz I liked the looks of it, and cuz I could. Nuf said.


So it's time to hit the hay, so I can get on the road at a decent hour tomorrow.

Some photos from the drive by tour of San Francisco, Women on Wheels July 2011.

A sea lion at the end of  Pier 39

Some of the graffiti you see on the  sides of buildings.  There are quite talented griffiti artists and some very elaborate work.

Terry and me gettiing eaten by a shark at Pier 39 in San Francisco.

Birdie and me at the Dudley Perkins shop in San Francisco.

Crooked Street in San Francisco.  The gardens are maintained by the people who live in the area, and cars go down through all of the little switchbacks.  It's a beautiful and fun street to see.  We just walked down along side where there are walkways.

Thursday, July 14



Yippy, skippy, let's ride. Today I head out, to parts not necessarily known.


Actually I did have a plan, mostly. Ride down to Casper, Wyoming, and then just keep going. I'd like to get to Texas to see my friend, Slider. Don't know if I can make it ... with the time frame I've set for myself. I will need to get a 1,000-mile checkup. Did 500 or so today, so tomorrow I'll be close and I'll have to make a call or two to try to schedule it.


It was a great day of riding, though. I saw lots of antelope and deer, had a couple of rain showers, mostly ridden between and I rode slow, fast, and then in the middle, working on breaking this bike in. I'm sure I've done more than I needed to, but that's okay. Tomorrow is another story. Let's rock and roll.


The day was a quiet one, too, just Harlow and me, getting acquainted, knowing each other and how we will get on. I know I did trade having the handlebars switched out and no more neckaches to not being able to get the kickstand up. On my other bikes I'd just ride forward and the kickstand would come up, or at least start so I could get it to kick up. This bike won't let me because you can't start it unless the kickstand is up. I had to have some construction guy come kick it up for me when I had to stop to wait for a pilot car. How embarrassing. I'd also forgotten how hot the new engines get ... so I can foresee a burned and blistered leg in my future. Maybe highway pegs would help although they'd have to be turned way in because of my little stubby legs. The sacrifices one makes to ride like the wind on her iron pony.


But in for the night. Tired. I didn't sleep well last night ... cuz I drank Coca Cola. How I love it, Classic style, from a bottle. Makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

Wednesday, July 13



The bike went to the shop. The guy in service kind of blew me off again ... he has a police bike, the idle is slow and it dies. He just starts it up again. He also said that he didn't know if they could look at it today or do the oil change. I told him I'd called yesterday and been told if I left it for the day they could do the oil change and a few other things. I wasn't happy.


I walked through the dealer floor and there were two cop Electra Glides, a white one and a black. Well, to hell with it. I just went ahead and bought a new bike. The ashtray on the Road King was full and it was time to move it along. I had it lowered front and rear, touring bars put on it, and a few other things done, all today as I wanted it and that was part of the deal. Imagine, they were able to push other folks back some to get this bike ready for me. The sales guy, Kaes, the parts guy Rickie and the finance gal Barbara were awesome. At 6 p.m. I was able to ride away on the 2011 white Electra Glide Classic. Her name is Harlow, after Jean Harlow. She's sweet and beautiful and handles like a dream, and she has saddlebags that lock. Woo hoo.. And the best part is that now service will have to fix the Road King in order to sell her. But I sure hated to part with her. Each bike I have becomes a part of me, and parting with them is difficult. But I've also learned that when things start to need repairs, and I mean major repairs, it's better to let them go. I kept my '93 Heritage way too long and she broke down, major, each year and there was a lot of down time. I just don't want that anymore. But I will always keep the '84 as she was my first Harley.


Spent some time loading and will finish up in the morning getting everything ready to ride. Where to go? Kansas? Texas? Or somewhere else? I just don't know. Phoenix is next week. This week is mine.

Tuesday, July 12



Birdie and I left her friend Cindy's house and headed for the Spokane shop. It wasn't there ... moved. She couldn't find the address in her GPS so we weren't sure how to get to it. A lady came out of the store and we told her and she said she had to load a few things into a truck and then would lead us over there. That was very nice. Turns out the Spokane and Coeur d'Alene shops are owned by the same person, they've merged them and they're now in Spokane Valley, under either Lone Wolf or Timber Wolf HD. It was their grand re-opening. Hung out there, got our required shirts and then went out to the parking lot to load and go on our separate ways.


We were off Highway 90, Birdie going west, me going east to Belgrade. Off we went out of the parking lot to do our own rides again. Separation. It's so sad. I got over it within minutes; bet Birdie did, too. We had a great time, though. She's a great traveling companion.


I headed east, running mostly 65 or 70. I was enjoying the ride, the gentle curves of the interstate, but watching the cloud cover ahead of me. It appeared I was going to run into a storm.


Rode on. Took the cherries left from the other day and put them inside my vest so I could get to them while riding. Yep, eating cherries and spitting the pit out as I went. It was great. And then they were gone. But as Birdie said in a Facebook post, I brake for cherry stands. And I saw a sign for another one, so I stopped, bought two pounds of cherries, some apricots and some huckleberry jam. Cherries for Jan and me and for Don and Donna, apricots for all and the jam for our English muffins. Yum.


Was running intos storms, thunder, lightning, rain. The first one soaked me, but I wouldn't stop to put on more clothes or a helmet or gloves. Stubborn? Nah. The second storm wasn't as bad, but still more rain and I was nearly dry from the first, but it remained cloudy and questionable weather. I'd fought headwinds and at 90-some miles on the odometer my gas light went on. So then the search began for a gas station, and slowing down to 50 mph to make it last as long as I could. I saw a sign for services, but it seemed I couldn't find it. Finally, in Deer Lodge. I had 109 miles on the tank, and took 4.445 gallons. And I breathed a huge sigh of relief, put on my sweatshirt and gloves and headed on, into a couple more storms. But this time I stopped to put on my jacket and helmet because I was freezing.


Pulled into Jan's place just about 7:30 p.m., changed clothes and went to get friends Don and Donna's and go out for Mexican food.. While we were sitting there Don said to go with him, there was something I had to see. It was. Three horses tied up outside the bar next door while their owners were in getting a drink. One of them came out to have a smoke ... big hat, chaps, the whole cowboy outfit and routine. The Marlborough man in person, or so it seemed. Was too funny. Of course, my favorite was the horses. I was close enough to smell them, and I love the smell of horseflesh. There was a brown and white pinto, a bay and a dun. A couple of my favorite horse colors.


Back to the barn, and then Jan and I stayed up til 1 a.m., talking, laughing, reliving old times. How do we still find stuff to talk about? You'd think we'd get talked out, but no, there's always something. That's a great friend, a good friend. And we just take up where we left off.


To bed, to bed.

Monday, July 11



We left between 8:30 and 9 this morning. Daisy cooked breakfast for us so we'd not be riding on an empty stomach. What a nice girl she is.


The ride today was Highway 95. It was beautiful. We crossed the Weiser River several times and followed the Little Salmon and Salmon rivers for miles. They're beautiful, with water falls, dams, large rocks and rushing water. It was just very pleasant, and I'd do this road again for sure. It's mostly two-lane, which is always a plus, and runs through a lot of small towns, which I also like. You get to see some of what makes a state so great.


Then we rode by something that I had to do a U-turn to take a photo of ... a bed and breakfast, but it's a little building in the shape of a Beagle, with a Beagle pup. It's the neatest building, and I could not pass it up. It was near Grangerville. I wonder if they give you a Beagle to snuggle with for your night's stay. If I ever get back that way again I have to try to stay there. I wonder if I could somehow get back there. Maybe not this year. Decisions, decisions.


We pretty much just rode and arrived in Post Falls about 5 or so. We stayed at a friend of Birdie's, Cindy, that she used to work with. Cindy just got down here two weeks ago, moved from Alaska as three of her kids live in the area. The fourth still lives in Alaska and will probably move here in a year. Beautiful home, and wonderful hospitality. We have such great friends.


Unbelievably, saw a dead moose along the highway. Also saw some elk in a pen, so don't know if they raise them for meat or what. I also saw on a sign today, elk tacos. Would have liked to have tried them. Gotta ride, gotta ride.


So, when a truck with hay comes along in the opposing lane do you hold your breath for a moment until it passes and then take a deep breath just so you can smell it, the sweetness of it? I do. I love that smell. And the smell of cut grass, and so many other things that you smell while riding. That's one of the joys of riding ... and one of the not so joyful things too ... dead skunks and other things, hot tires and brakes ... but you're in ride, not just observing objects as they pass by you.

Called Jan in Montana. She wants to take Wednesday off to spend with me, so I'll probably be there Tuesday and Wednesday nights. No Internet there either.

So, all for tonight.