“Thanks,” Cycle World!

I attended Cycle World’s International Motorcycle Show on Saturday. And, it was all that—and a slice of sweet potato pie! I don’t know if suffering from cabin fever rendered me more receptive to the swarm, a rather large slowly walking throng, all drooling over motorcycles, waiting patiently (mostly) to swing a leg over, or if I was just in rare form. I was determined that nothing would detract from my joyful mission--even after remembering that I forgot my gloves that I wanted to don to ward off other people’s germs, I remained sanguine. I never hesitated to grasp the throttle and clutch levers on a gazillion bikes. Yes, I was in rare form.

I wanted also to take pictures that I hoped would make nice additions to future blog entries. I managed to trip the shutter 130 times and have posted most of the results on flickr. It is difficult to believe that I, true believer in asceticism and a practicing hermit, walked around the mammoth floorplan for 6.5 hours! I left the show with every intention of returning on Sunday. A reappearance never transpired. When my eyes opened in the wee hours of Sunday morning, I noticed something familiar. Whenever I travel by air or find myself in tight quarters with strangers for long periods, I get sick. The insides of my throat felt like it had been seized by gravel. Even thinking about swallowing felt like my throat was being scoured with a Brillo pad. I imagined little germy soldiers lining up to launch a full attack any minute. This would be the price paid for daring to venture out without protection. I can say this now: it was worth it. Frigid weather can make one desperate. Besides, as the adage goes, “no pain, no gain.”

I’m certain I’ll write more about the show in the coming days, but I did want to post the pics and mention a few highlights.

I think it was Friday that I went to Carla King’s website and learned that her book, American Borders: A solo-circumnavigation of the United States on a Russian sidecar motorcycle, was out--finally. While poking around her site, I also discovered that King would be coming to the Rosemont to promote her book and support the Urals. I couldn’t believe my luck! I would have been happy just to discover the book’s release date. I have read about Carla’s "misadventures" for some time—long before I bought my gal-pal. I wanted to beat the crowds I figured would be lining up for the book. So, I decided that my first goal would be to find Carla. (I have a very bizarre David Sedaris story about me waiting in line for hours to buy his book and have him sign it—but I digress). I located Carla King right near the Urals, sitting at a small table covered with a plain white cloth, nicely accented by two layers: a colorful, blue-purple-ish tie-dye material that peeked beneath a top black layer. A small stack of books sat at the table’s front edge. Carla, dressed in black sat at the table but I could tell right away, she isn’t the sit-down for long type. In fact, she soon stood up to fiddle with stuff, purse, books, look for a pen? I only remember her moving about before settling in her seat.
I always think it’s silly when people meet celebs and say, “Wow, you look just like you do on TV.” I avoided being that lame--I hope. Carla, however, does look like her writings, which are accessible, humorous and lively. She is clearly dynamic, inquisitive, open and has a very strikingly friendly face, the kind you want to talk to (I hope I’m not sounding too much like a groupie). I’m being as truthful as one can been when first meeting someone you’ve sort of met previously through their words. She has a persona that conveys a comfort folks often possess who have traveled a lot. Perhaps she’s always been that way; perhaps I’m just over-analyzing matters. IMHO, such people don’t know what it means to meet a stranger. They are engaging, gregarious and always seeking to go beyond the surface. I know part of that is being a journalist, but I’ve met journalists who lack this quality (I have a few stories about that too!).

Carla would make an excellent ethnographer—more about that when I finish the book. In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Carla; she is how I imagined her from reading her “misadventures.” Some time later at the show, I ran into Carla again—actually, she ran into me. At the time, I was half-daydreaming and her sudden reappearance bolted me back to reality. I was happy to see her again! We had a brief chat and a photo op. BTW, while I’m reading the book and don’t want to say much about it until I finish, the first chapter had me putting it down a few times to take some notes. Some of her stories sparked some memories that I’ve written about before and now want to revisit. Mind you, these memories have nothing to do with motorcycles. That to me is always a good sign that I will love a book. And I’m not just saying that because I’ve met the author. If a book doesn’t measure up, I will say so.

Another show highlight? Custom-made ear plugs! If there were a tiny ear canal contest, I would win. Not only are my ear holes microscopic, they are angry. Stick something in and they will spit out the intruder, close shop and throb for days on end. Name an over the counter ear plug and I have it. Extra small, are not small enough. “Guaranteed to fit,” they don’t know my ear canals! I learned from the audiologist’s assistant that “racial” groups have different size canals and that the angel of the canal also differs across groups. I wish I had known that before investing in every ear earphone on the market before abandoning that struggle and wearing headphones. You’ll see the purple, pliable, putty-like ear stoppers in one of the pictures. I tested them Saturday night by wearing them under my helmet. After about ten minutes, I removed the helmet. The plugs had stayed in place; they had not fallen inside the helmet’s ear well and greatest thing of all, no lingering, pulsating pain after I extracted the plugs. I am happy knowing that I can now save what little hearing I have left.


Although tempted, I did not buy the Nolan N-102 helmet. Perhaps the deals were saved for Sunday. On Saturday, the prices were above some of the online deals so I resisted the urge to have it now. I did pick up more maps and the American Motorcycle Association’s, Ride Guide to America: Favorite Motorcycle Tours in the USA.

Of late, the weather here has been challenging. Relatively speaking, it is now warm outside at 28 F with a wind chill of 18F. Currently, a heavy, wet snow is blanketing the downtown area and we’re bracing for a winter storm over the next 24 hours. Compared to the 11 feet of snow in Oswego, NY—and more on the way, I shall not complain. I will even avoid whining about my sore throat. I remain optimistic that Punxsutawney Phil is right and an early spring is on the way. In the meantime, Saturday turned out to be the spark I needed to jump-start my mood.
I'm thrilled anytime I can combine multiple joys: new friends, new books, new maps and seat time on new motorcycles. I’m looking forward to the coming spring.

More pictures: http://www.flickr.com/photos/shicksba272214/sets/72157594529330404/

The day has arrived!

The Cycle World International Motorcycle Show kicked off last night. I was tempted to go but decided against Friday's shortened schedule. Besides, I figured some vendors might still be setting up, some might not even be present yet. Why chance that? So, I'm planning to attend today and tomorrow. I have a ton of income-generating work I need to finish this weekend but I've suffered enough. I need a reward. I need to sit on a lot of bikes and dream of what it would be like to own a few of them. It has been downright Arctic here. I deserve two days of motorcycle binging.

I should be sleeping so that I can put in a full day at the show but I think the excitement of the show has engendered a bit of insomnia, for which I think I may have found a cure. Those stairs you see in the picture...they've become a no-drug solution to bouts of sleeplessness. Funny thing is, if I do the stairs at the start of the day, it's like a jolt of caffeine directly in the veins. I'm bolted alert and feel as if I can leap tall buildings. If, however, I attack the stairs anytime after 6pm, I will drop off to lala land in minutes of sitting or reclining. I'm comfortable climbing 20 flights and descending 21. This is not easy. It takes about 45 stairs to comprise one floor. Descending is a lot tougher on the legs than ascending. But I'm not complaining, really. I'm seeing progress and there are some benefits to riding. What's that? Endurance.

The weights? I've always dabbled in lifting weights, mostly free weights and for the last year or so, I've been fairly consistent. I workout at home and alone. Why free weights? First, I think they force you to master better form. Second, machines require that I visit a health club, which always seems more like a visit to a meat market--I'm a vegetarian. I'd rather have my nose hairs yanked out than go to such places! I'm not the only one professing a link between fitness/lifting weights and riding certain types of bikes. A number of motorcycle instruction books advance a similar fitness argument for sport bike riders. Lee Parks, Total Control: High Performance Street Riding Techniques," is one excellent example to check out for a discussion on "motorcycle-specific fitness."

I've been lifting weights long before my re-newed interest in motorcycling and I'm finding many rider benefits too. Sitting on a sporty-standard/naked is a lot different than sitting on the more laid back cruiser. My seating position on Queenie is upright. On a long trip, my lower back can scream and send shooting pain to my brain if I have been remiss in exercising that area. I must keep my thoracolumbar fascia strong, which is a challenge when the pain is chronic. I have no choice, I must keep this area flexible. Even though at times I don't want to move, I remember that the pain is far greater when I allow the stiffness to set in, then it's like trying to bend cement with only your mind.

On my SV650, my legs are positioned similarly to that of a bicycle racer. The peroneus longus and the extensor digitorum longus need to be sinewy, pliable and able to withstand being in a flexed position throughout a long ride. The entire group of vastus muscles need to be in top form. The balls of my feet rest on the foot pegs, as opposed to my legs being extended forward and my feet resting on floor boards. I need to maintain excellent soleus and Achilles tendon function to ride long with a grin on my face rather than stress on my leg muscles and tendons. My hands grasp the grips but it is important to avoid tension there or in my arms and shoulders. The neck region should remain relaxed because tense muscles interfere with facile movement, engender fatigue, restrict enjoyment and most important, preclude the body from being able to respond easily, effectively and instantly when a situation demands it. But a head is heavy thing. Add to it a helmet and the neck muscles are supporting a lot of weight over 300 + miles. We riders need to avoid jerky and stiff movements in favor of smooth, fluid, and deliberate movement. Yet we need to be quick, ready to swerve and brake on a dime. We can't afford to fight ourselves, which is what tight, tense and unfit muscle require.

Sitting at a computer all day, I have noticed that I have a propensity to tighten my shoulder area, specifically the trapezius muscles. Mine are brick hard--not a desired outcome by any means. I now try to stay aware of when I'm tensing that area as doing so affects all upper body responses. My throttle hand is damaged. Inside my wrist, extending to the lower arm is 6 inch titanium implant that holds my wrist together. In a couple of months I'll pass the two year mark since I "shattered" my wrist and broke my lower ulna (not a motorcycle related injury). Even though I do wrist curls and all the associated upper and lower arm exercises, my wrist still rebels on long trips sometimes. I have a throttle device that is supposed to ease hand fatigue but I've yet to use it--something about it doesn't click with me. I mean, I'm not convinced of its utility. Is it as easy to engage and disengage as the cruise control on my car? I've had a couple of nightmares about engaging the throttle gadget but not being able to release it. Scary, scary thought.

I think the point of all this is that while I've always tried to stay in good physical condition, the demands of riding my bike well require it even more. This I know is true: A strong body with good muscle function and good endurance will surely make the ride more enjoyable, particularly after putting in a 10 hour riding day. At the beginning of a riding season, a 100 mile ride feels more challenging than a 400 miles ride at the end of the season. If we've been riding throughout, we're in better riding shape by the end of the riding season. Our endurance has improved, our bodies have adapted and we can push ourselves more.

A major variable I've yet to mention is the effects of aging...I'm not who I used to be. None of us is. If we are lucky, "senior citizen" is the one minority group to which we will all become members. Running long distances now compared to even a few years ago is harder. I used to jog; now I plod. Each year the body changes, often surprising us in its swiftness. Unless you go the surgical route--no thank you--gravity will win out and muscles all over the body will begin to lose some of their elasticity and strength. Still, we have to forge ahead, do our part to maintain good balance, joint flexibility (standard bikes have higher seat heights than cruiser) and keep our lower back in good working condition--there is no pain like back pain--even child birth pales in comparison--IMHO.

I know for some this talk might seem like too much blather to think about when all we really want to do is ride our machines and have fun doing so. I get that. All I'm saying is that we can ride longer (assuming no encounters with insane cagers or mental lapses on our part) if we remember to lift, stretch, bend, flex, think, hydrate, sleep--and on that note.... if I'm going to enjoy the motorcycle show, I should get some shut-eye before I go.

Zen Meister Robert Pirsig and THE "Art" ...

In keeping with Sunday's theme on getting through winter blues, I sank into some old Rider magazines and turned to a Mark Tuttle Jr., "One Track Mind" editorial in which he quotes the Zen Meister of motorcycle philosophy. Robert Pirsig is author of THE best book ever written (1974) that is not solely about motorcycle riding per se, yet says all there is to say about motorcycle riding and the quality of life and machines and -- well, if you haven't read this book--doesn't matter if you ride a motorcycle or not--stop reading this blog now and get a late edition copy, which is now necessary to read Pirsig's much-welcomed Afterword. This is the book that makes me realize more than any other that I need to wrench my bike, not only to keep it in good working form but to learn other equally valuable lessons about life and ways of looking and seeing and hearing the world through an intimate connection with the machines that serve us.

Tuttle's quote from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values, bears re-quoting for today's blog entry:

"You'll see things vacationing on a motorcycle in a way that is completely different from any other. In a car you're always in a compartment, and because you're used to it you don't realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You're a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame."

"On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming. That concrete whizzing by 5 inches below your foot is the real thing, the same stuff you walk on, it's right there, so blurred you can't focus on it, yet you can put your foot down and touch it anytime, and the whole thing, the whole experience, is never removed from immediate consciousness."

Tuttle comments that after reading Pirsig's words as a young teen, he never felt the same about riding in a car. After re-reading Pirsig 20 years later than my first reading, his words speak to me like few others. When trying to explain to people why I love riding a motorcycle, a very "dangerous" endeavor in their concerned, myopic minds, I've tried to compare it to the limited joy I feel riding in a car. Yet, I often feel I've failed miserably to convey my exact meaning. Now I can.

Thanks Tuttle for the reminder!
Thanks Zen Meister, Robert Pirsig for the book.

Signing off from Chicago--Sister City of Siberia!

Ten Ways I Cope with Winter Doldrums!

1. Surround yourself with maps. Dream, plan, locate places to visit—even if you never venture far, dreaming is free and yours might come true with the right planning.

2. Read or reread the motorcycle classics. Dust off David Hough’s books, Pat Hahn and other instruction books. Re-read Pirsig’s, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Helge Pedersen’s, 10 Years on 2 Wheels, Melissa Holbrook Pierson’s, The Perfect Vehicle: What is it about Motorcycles and Ted Bishop’s, Riding with Rilke: Reflections on Motorcycles and Books. Escape in the words of kindred souls…

3. Watch movies with motorcycles in them. Just this morning I was given a most unexpected treat! I saw a movie called “Silver Hawk”—totally unrealistic, hokey, post 21st century hi-tech and requiring few critical thinking skills--but sheer delight nonetheless! Think: female super(man), martial arts mistress on a BMW that she programs to come when summoned. The Beemer can ride with or without a rider. With a -2.6F temp and a wind chill of -19F, (at 8a.m. today) any movie—even one I would ordinarily deem unworthy of my time seems to transform into a masterpiece if it's frigid and a motorcycle makes an appearance. Google a list of motorcycle movies and see the bad, the good, and the really bad ‘cause it’s better than nothing.

4. Try to search to the bottom of the Internet for all the motorcycle and motorcycle-specific sites. Because there is no bottom, you’ll keep busy throughout the winter: WARNING: This can be addictive and you might need a 12-step program or a short winter to snap out of it.

5. Did I mention surrounding yourself with maps and musing about far off places?

6. Join a new motorcycle forum—no matter how many you already belong to.

7. Regularly visit your favorite independent bookstore or big chain and read the motorcycle magazines you don’t already subscribe to, which may be difficult if you subscribe to everything. If so, concentrate on all the magazines from the UK.

8. Create a long list of motorcycle farkels/farkles. Don’t let money hold you back; you aren’t required to buy anything—again, dreaming doesn’t cost a cent. Purchase what you can or nothing at all.

9. Order back issues of your favorite magazines. Don’t forget to read all those articles in your subscription that you only skimmed over when they first arrived. For me, these tend to be the magazines that arrived over the summer. I'm more deliberately selective in my mag reading then as I'd rather be out riding and I know I'll need these unread articles to pull me through the winter melancholy.

10. Invoke lots of exaggerated whining! Do this particularly whenever you look out the window and/or someone refers to weather. Then when the riding season starts, family and friends will gladly welcome the good weather and encourage you to hit the road. If the whining has been effective, they might even push you out the door!

The countdown begins!

That Yamaha FZ1 is a beautiful machine!

Cycle World’s International Motorcycle Show will be here Friday, February 9th through Sunday, February 11th. My “must sit on” list is completed. It includes the entire new line of BMW 650s (the Xchallenge, Xcountry; Xmoto). (Photo of the Xchallenge from BMW_AG)
I definitely want to feel the thrill of the F800ST and the F800S to compare the two. Of course, I will check out the highly acclaimed BMW R1200R, which takes the place of my former dream bike, the R1150R. The R1200R
is lighter and supposedly a better bike on all accounts than the R1150R, which I thought was simply perfect. Of course, I’m salivating over the 2007 Suzuki SV650--I owe it to my '01 SV650 to check out its new sibling. The remaining list includes the Kawasaki KLR650, the KLX250s—I’d love to get dirty with these dual sports, and the popular Ninja 650R.
Yamaha’s FZ1 is a two-wheeled jet that I once had a ride on and loved every minute. A safety instructor took me on a ride on his and to this day, I don’t know why we didn’t take flight! It is too much power for my riding style—and skills—but I sure like its standard/naked looks. The new one has adjustable front forks and rear shocks, which means (to me at least) that this bike is ready for all kinds of riding be it on the track and streets. At the Honda pavilion, it’s the 599 that I want to sit on and daydream. The reviews always describe it as a great bike but they never fail to point out that it is way overpriced for this category and hard to justify buying when compared to the ton ‘o fun SV650, the Kawasaki Ninja 650R, and the Yamaha FZ6—bikes in the same “budget” middleweight category.


I’ll attend both Friday and Saturday although Sunday might be the best opportunity to snare some deals. The less vendors drag back with them, the better they like it, which means savings for the consumer. Last year, I picked up a 3/4 comfy Nolan helmet at a great discount. Good thing the USA distributor is in IL because I ended up having to travel to a far suburb to exchange the helmet, which they had to "rush" order to me. A loose seal in a critical area would have surely unraveled after a few trips. An excellent, comfortable helmet but I ended up rarely wearing it, feeling somewhat under-protected in the chin area. Instead, my HJC Sy-Max HJC became the one I wore all the time. The Sy-Max has served me well but I’m afraid it has sustained a few too many drops for its integrity not to be compromised. My third helmet, the first one I purchased, is mediocre at best and will be worn only in the event that a thief steals the other two and I need to wear it to a dealer to buy a new helmet! The sun visor on the late model Nolans eliminate the need to change visors—not to mention the great light feel of the helmet.
On my longest trip, I wore the lightest smoke visor on my HJC but even it was too dark after the sun went down. I took the clear visor with me but removal and installation are more tedious than necessary. It takes time, concentration, and a bit of yoga breathing to keep the frustration at bay. I thought of wearing the clear visor the whole time but then I would need prescription sunglasses, which I don’t own (that I can actually see with). The Nolan is a perfect solution to end fiddling with and carrying an additional visor. I’m going to take cash with me and the cheapest online price quote and hope that the Nolan folks will either beat it or match the price.

I will be on a mission for earplugs. Most of my friends know about my microscopic ear canals. Even the tiniest plugs are unable to enter my ears easily. When slightly forced inside, my ears accept the intruders but for seconds only, just long enough to trick me into thinking that they are cooperating this time. But soon my ears will pop the plugs out. The only thing I’ve not yet done is duct tape them in, which I have considered. Last year, an audiologist was at the show fitting riders with custom earplugs. I’m going to splurge to protect my hearing. I slacked off from wearing plugs at the end of last season because I nothing I purchased worked I tired of fighting with my ears. They remained sore and tender after these battles. I believe that relentless ringing I now experience in my left ear is probably related to my earplugs issues.

Finally, I’m hoping that the Road Runner magazine folks will be present again as I’m hoping to buy some back issues and talk to them about submission guidelines. I love that magazine!
The ride reports are consistently excellent, the pictures always seductive, and of course, the colorful maps are awesome. This is a mag I’d love to write for when I grow up. Eight days and counting…

Alms for the suffering!

Saturday's cold temps didn't phase me one iota. Took in a movie and on the way there, with gloveless hands, I opened the fat package I had retrieved from the mailbox. Written on front of it was "Lake Superior Circle Tour." In it were "gifts" (i.e., travel stuff!) I had been bugging them about since November. Finally the new 2007 travel guide, a book mark, a gift catalog, a really handy map (my third of the region!) and a 308 page book called, Lake Superior: The Ultimate Guide to the Region. Look at those goodies! Christmas in January! Supposedly some of the stuff was free; the book was around $17. In the end, the tab was $30--but I'm not complaining. It's high quality and after the movie, I returned home and didn't move much the rest of the weekend. Now that's entertainment!
I now see why William Murphy in Motorcycling Across Michigan calls the Lake Superior Cirle Tour "the crown jewel" of the great lake tours. While circling Lake Michigan, I remember long stretches where only me, the machine, the road, and the lake seemed out there. I enjoyed those uninterrupted rolling miles. My stops were welcomed treats that I devoured.

The Lake Superior challenge? Be selective! There is so much to see and many of the sites are in close proximity to each other. There will be spots, where if I want to do the whole touring thing, I'll end up 'cycling two miles here and there. Lots of short jaunts. Lots of places where the info recommends that you "stay a day or so." Thus far, everything I've read about, sounds like a "must-see" to me. On the Lake Michigan tour, I aimed for as many lighthouses as I could. Circling Lake Superior, I'm adding visits to the falls, like Kakabeka Falls, Ontario and Tahquamenon Falls, UP Michigan, to mention two. National and State parks cover the trip and I'm thinking as I'm reading all this attractive info that I need more than a week. That's always the tension for me: ride versus tour. I know I can cover the approximately 2,300 miles to complete the journey. It's the touring that takes so much time, of which I have only a limited amount now that I've sold my labor to a corporation.

Oh well, now that I have all these goodies perhaps I can narrow my choices and plan my stops (which sorta defeats the whole idea of VACATION!). Everything on this tour seems so yummy, like a kid in a huge candy store.

Sunday Rides any day of the week!

Someone brought Barbara Barber’s book, Sunday Rides on Two Wheels: Motorcycling in Southern Wisconsin, to my attention and I’m glad because chances are I might not have discovered it on my own. Barber’s motorcycle rides remind her of the Sunday family automobile outings of her childhood. For Barber, why not have Sunday rides any day of the week—not on four wheels but on two? How else can one fully feel the wind on her face? No more sticking her neck out of a car window in search of that summer breeze.

Barber’s book is compact; it is 178 pages and spiral bound. Black and white photos sprinkled throughout the book capture some attractive sights along the routes. In the back of the book, one finds two pages of county, park, and commerce information, including pertinent phone numbers and website addresses. In addition, for the biker’s peace of mind, the books lists six pages of contact information for motorcycle dealerships in the region. The author has beautifully anticipated the resource needs to travel comfortably here.

I like almost everything about this book. The one thing I don’t like is minor—and I hesitate to mention it. First, the things I like: I like Barber’s simplicity. The book is straightforward; the language is clear and accessible. Barber divides southern Wisconsin into five sections: Glacier Country; Kettle Moraine: Driftless Area; Coulee Country; and, Baraboo Hills & Beyond. In each one, she outlines a full range of multi-distance rides in turn-by-turn level details. I haven’t tried any of the routes yet or checked them against Google maps, for example, but it appears that Barber has done her homework. She demystifies the region and the routes. You’d have to try hard to get lost. This is a huge plus! As a female riding solo, this is exactly the type of guide you want as a riding companion. (Sidebar: I know men get lost too and would benefit from such a guide too--and they can feel overwhelmed (maybe even scared) at being lost. BUT they at least have a fighting chance should anyone try to hassle them. People out to do wrong are less likely to attack a man they think might give them trouble—nut cases want it easy, they look for victims they perceive as weak. To such people, women and children fit this category most).

I also like how easy one can string together rides within one region, making for singular rides or multiple hookups. I’ve reached a destination before and then wandered aimlessly about looking for other fun roads. The search rarely incontinences me as I like to explore and I always have a map (sometimes GPS) with me. But my trial and error approach sometimes means I miss out on some dynamite roads that only an insider can pinpoint. Barber is that insider and her book eliminates guesswork while not inhibiting the roaming instinct.

Each chapter begins with some history of the area—more than enough to whet one’s appetite but not so much that you find yourself reaching for the highlighter. Wonder no more about the unique topography of the area and why southwestern Wisconsin looks dramatically different from southeastern Wisconsin. The answer? Glaciers! They pushed through the southeastern parts creating geological disparities that make for a compelling tale that in Barber’s hands is entertaining and informative. Barber devotes well-appreciated time to “Notes & Highlights” that deliver what it promises. These enlightening sections articulate the diversity of the landscape, reveal the best twisty roads, and underscore the must-see architecture in the area. We know where the best working farms exist and where not to aim our two wheels. The book outlines only paved roads but one can easily figure out the location of the unpaved roads from the text should they want to explore those.

In addition to turn-by-turn route directions, Barber has easy to follow, bold maps outlining each route in the five geographical sections. Don’t expect to find the level of detail on these maps that one associates with an atlas--for that, take out your basic Rand McNally. At the end of each section is a “For More Information” page with phone numbers, web addresses and a calendar of events for the area, which makes it simple to schedule—or not—a trip during certain time periods. It is not fun getting to a town only to learn that you’re blocked in all directions because of a parade. Glimpses of Barber’s wisdom are dispersed throughout the book and smartly placed inside boxes with block lettering text that makes the advice seem friendly and personal. Initially, I found myself drawn into all of these boxed musings and caveats before finally settling in to read the book. Her insights give the book a compelling, warm fuzzy feel.

So what is it I don’t like about the book? Well…I said it was minor. Here goes. The black and white photographs. I love black and white photography and have taken many such photographs myself. Often the pictures here are too dark to make out much detail. Only a very few capture the allure of black and white photography. While I appreciate the visuals from the routes, many of the photos lack clarity and eventually detract from the book’s general excellence. This is a tiny criticism that should not diminish the book’s overall charm. There is more than enough here to keep two wheeling rolling happily for a long time. Sunday Rides on Two Wheels…should be on the shelf of everyone who lives within 500 miles of Wisconsin—and any one else thinking about traveling to the region. And that’s my humble opinion!

New map and a new motorcycle to boot!

“Thanks” to those who sent me new “Sharon” cities to explore—I appreciate that and have expanded my list. Even the tongue-in-cheek “Sharon” in Russia intrigues me enough to want to visit. It immediately made me think of the adventure “Long Way ‘Round.” I saw myself on one of the new BMW 650s, making my way through Russia. I know it’s a dream but it could happen!

A friend from work understands my pain. She gave me a little toy motorcycle that now sits in front of my computer, where I slave away each day. Looking at it helps transport me along unexplored backroads whenever I need a break from my workaday routine, which I need frequently! And, talk about conspicuity! If I rode a motorcycle that brightly colored, cagers just might see me. Yeah, right! Best of all, the handlebar actually turns!


My love of maps stems from childhood, when I’d spin a small globe I had received as a gift and pick a place to daydream about. That led to maps; only now do I really understand them well.
As a child, I just like pouring over them and imagining what other kids in far off places were doing, that perhaps somewhere in Xinxiang, China another kid was pouring over a map wondering about a kid in Chicago. Sunday I treated myself to yet another atlas! It’s big, colorful, and replete with symbols, cross-references to other germane pages in the atlas, scenic drives and a bit of history about selected places. Well-worth the $16.95.


To me a great way to spend the wait for spring is sit on the floor, surrounded by various maps (one map is never enough!) and see how each has chosen to represent data. While the major details are the same, it’s the micro details that make a map inviting. Some maps ignore the little places and sprinkle in a few to satisfy the average reader; some are so jammed with info that it appears that the goal of full disclosure reigned supreme over logic and clarity. Such maps are headache-inducing to follow and only sometimes interesting to look at from a distance. The tangled web of connections are obvious--and strangling. Still some maps record only the most populated places as if thumbing its nose at every place else.

Even with my GPS—not to mention Google.maps—I prefer a paper map as the definitive word on where to go and how to get there. When I became a little turned around while trying to follow the back roads to Kankakee River State Park, it was my map that I finally stopped to consult. It returned me to civilization. My GPS became little more than an expensive compass. I had vowed to master its features so that I can rely on it more but now I think I know enough to do what I want to do and get where I want to go. I love electronic gadgets; they are indispensable resources for most of what I need to do. But when I want to feel a place, see it spread out before me, to run my fingers along its lakes and tributaries and climb its mountains, it’s the tangible surface of a map that I desire most. My new one will easily keep me company not just until riding season starts, but for years to come.

"The Iceman" Definitely Cometh !

Paul Mondor has kissed the ground in Cape Spear, NL! A collective sigh of relief probably shifted the earth a little as thousands literally could finally exhale knowing that Paul had safely reached his amazing goal of riding coast to coast through Canada during the harsh winter. Paul has braved some pretty brutal climes and moment-by-moment weather transformations throughout. On Saturday, as he rode en route to St. Johns and Cape Spear--the most easterly point in North American--Paul faced winds of 120 mph! Doing so beat him up quite a bit. Not surprising, he reports being exhausted and sporting some hard-earned blistered fingertips from gripping the handlebars in a fight against the winds. Paul won. Along the way, Paul has been buoyed by the munificence of friends and strangers, many of whom have braved the elements to come out and cheer him on. This is huge people! No one has ever done this before on two-wheels during the winter! I'm glad to have been a micro-microscopic voice among the legends who could only cheer him on via the Internet and pray for a safe journey.

Who needs to watch such ridiculous shows like "Survivor" and "Fear Factor"? Paul's coast to coast is the real deal! An every day, ordinary, average Joe with extraordinary heart, pluck and determination has managed to accomplish the unthinkable. He did it. Not for fame and fortune. But because he had a dream and he did what it took to realize that dream.

I read this quote on Adventure Riders and its author labeled it: "Quote of the Day." The author is one of those amazingly helpful motorcyclists who made himself available should Paul need him and who provided updates to the information starved Adventure Riders forum.

"I say to Paul...

"We should probably get back up the Cape Spear highway to St. John's soon, because the temperature is dropping like a stone, and the road will soon ice over very quickly."

Paul looks at me and says...

"And your point is?!"--author DRZ400SK4 (Adventure Riders)

Where in the world is Paul Mondor?

For a couple of weeks now, Paul Mondor has dominated my thoughts. I’ve tried to restrain myself and not think about him every minute. But I’m hopeless when it comes to Paul. Last Tuesday night, I crossed the line. I began sleeping with him.

I am a respectable, unavailable woman, for whom this is entirely out of character. I have no business engaging in such behavior. Yet when I climbed into bed early this morning, Paul was right there. When I opened my sleep-deprived eyes this morning, I turned over and there was Paul, demanding my attention. I did what only an obsessed woman would. I rolled out of bed, turned on my computer and asked the only question I could: “Where in the World is Paul Mondor?” Is he cold? Is he of clear mind and strong body? Is mother nature treating him well? Is the throng of other Paul-obsessed groupies watching out for him, offering their warm beds, and feeding him well?

You see, although I’ve become a fanatical stalker, I have never met Paul Mondor. And, I probably will never meet the man. Probably the closest I’ll ever come to meeting him is to trace his coast-to-coast Canada route myself and dream of him while doing so.

For more than a year, Paul Mondor has been planning to ride a motorcycle from Victoria, BC to Newfoundland and back home in the dead of winter. Operative words: coast-to-coast; Canada; dead of winter; and motorcycle. The juxtaposition of those terms should have forced his family and friends to launch an intervention because evidently the man is either insane and/or has a death wish. Judging from what I’ve learned about Paul from bleary-eyed reading of more than a year’s worth of posts about his epic journey, Paul is a force to be reckoned with. His DNA is unlike most people; a brain scan, I’m convinced, will show spirited activity in regions that most of our brains show dead zones. Paul's a member of that select group of visionaries that see only the possibilities and rewards in following their dreams, regardless of the names the world's naysayers call them. When it comes to the inherent dangers that would give some of us pause and stop most of us in our tracks, Paul and his ilk see only worthy challenges to overcome while keeping their eyes on the prize.

For the winter bound, road-starved motorcyclists--and a lot of other riders and nonriders, we are living a bit of our own dreams vicariously through Paul. He calls himself the “crazy Frenchman” and if his tenancity and determination is symbolic of that moniker, folks had better just get out of Paul’s way when he gets a bug in his beemer loving heart. I could continue to wax poetic about Paul, but I really want to wrap this up as I hear him calling out to me. I will leave you with some more key words to capture his, man against nature, coastal journey on a BMW F650GS Dakar: killer windchills; 100 mph wind gusts; -33F; avalanches; icy roads; closed roads; zero visibility; harrassing policemen; truckers; genius mechanics; coffee; generous strangers; gravey and ketchup soaked french fries; and, a horde of people wishing Paul Godspeed.

...one crazy friend and one converted friend...

My friend Lucas, who was a guest blogger here and wrote about his trip to Tobermory, Ontario, has ruptured something in his brain--in a good way--he's cooked up an idea on doing a Saddlesore with a twist. He knows I've been planning one for the upcoming season. The Saddlesore, is 1000 miles in under 24 hours, the shortest distance to earn one the title of "World's Toughest Motorcycle Riders." I don't want to give out any details--we actually don't have any yet-because the plan is so novel that it just might earn us fame and fortune. That, in IRB terms translates into: a certificate, signature license plate and membership in this small, but growing group of long distance motorcycle riders.

If great-grandmother Ardys Kellerman can ride 80,000 miles in six months, complete 4 IRBs (that's 11,000 miles in 11 days) and 4 back-to-back Saddlesores (that's 1000 miles on four consecutive days) then surely I can finish a 1000 mile jaunt in less than 24 hours.

What I love about the IRB is that it defies logic. Some might think that the key to distance riding is speed. It is not. It is safe, consistent and strategic riding that wins the rally. In fact, speeding slows you down--get a ticket and you'll be stuck there waiting for a police officer to write you a ticket. When it comes to an IRB, think: slow--relatively speaking-- and steady wins the rally.
^^^

My dear friend, I'll call her EM, who now resides in NC is going to take a MSF course in the spring! She was bitten sometime ago. Once when visiting me, she spotted a little bumblebee colored Kawasaki Ninja 250 and she hasn't been the same since. When I first saw her sit on a bike, I could swear her eyes twinkled. She's got that sport bike look about her: medium height, slender build and muscular legs. Living in NC, she will get to ride her bike year 'round! How wonderful is that?! I'm as eager for her class to commence as I was for my own class to start. I promise to be a good moto role model for her. I will demand that she be ATGATT (All The Gear, All The Time)--but I don't think that will require much convincing. She's also very smart.

2007 Riding Plans--so far.

Mao Zedong said: "Á thousand-mile journey begins with the first step.” I’ve put the almost-finishing touches on my upcoming riding season. I hope to squeeze in a few more trips but these—not counting VA and NC—come close to 7500 miles. My goal for the season is 10,000 miles. Why? I like goals and 10,000 is a nice round number?

Start * Destination * RT miles

Chicago Rustic Roads WI 300.00
Chicago Gills Rock, WI (Door County) 570.86
Chicago Saddlesore 1000 + 15
Chicago Galena IL 326.30
Chicago Lake Geneva, WI 152.16
Chicago Niles, MI 198.62
Chicago Shawnee National Forest 640.66
Chicago Iowa City, IA 436.30
Chicago Sauk Trail/Chicago Pike 570.00
Chicago Lake Superior Circle Tour 2295.00
Chicago Spring Green, WI 372.12
Chicago New Glarus, WI 311.38
Chicago Starved Rock, Utica, IL 193.14
Chicago Arlington, VA 1402.72 (iffy)
Chicago Raleigh, NC 1729.24 (iffy)
Chicago Sharon, WI 177.70

If I ever want the map at the end of my blogpage to fill up with red, I must get out of the Midwest! Only with the Lake Superior Circle Tour will I add a new state (MN)--and Canada. But you'd think with all these miles, I'd substantially expand my riding range.

Hmmm? I think I hear Alaska or a nice perimeter jaunt around the USA calling me for 2008.

Sharon to visit Sharon

Late last season, I thought of some quirky rides that I could turn into interesting ride reports. I’ve never really liked my name, mainly because I rarely meet anyone under 70 with the name—not that there’s anything wrong with that. I started wondering just how many cities named "Sharon" are out there? Wouldn’t it be neat, I thought, to visit each one and take a picture underneath the city sign, possible with me holding my own cardboard sign with “Sharon” crudely printed on it with an arrow pointing to me? Why that’s interesting to me, I don’t know. Winter boredom, perhaps?

Here are the Sharon cities I’ve found along with mapquest one-way estimates that assume interstate travel, which underestimates the miles I’d travel to get to each given my preference for backloads and scenic routes.

Sharon, CT 850.17 miles
Sharon Springs, KS 800.70
Sharon, MA 989.26
Sharon, MI (Kalaska) 313.06
Sharon, MI (Washtenaw) 251.46
Sharon, ND 735.22
Sharon, PA 413.86
Sharon, WI 83.63

If anyone knows of other Sharon cities not listed, please let me know. I can begin chipping away at the Midwest Sharon cities this summer; the others will require more planning.

UPDATE: Thanks to those who have helped expand the list of Sharon places to visit!
These miles reflect approximate round trips (RT).

Sharon, LA 1,016 miles
Sharon, MS 1,446.28; 1,713.40 miles (requires visiting two counties)
Sharon, VT 1,860.32 miles

Sharon, Kalmykia Russia!

Update: 1/28/07--Ask, and people answer. I have a bunch of additional Sharon cities since asking on this blog and on the Motorcycles.About.com forum. I haven't done the mileage and city research on these yet, but I wanted to place them here so I can get back to them.

Sharon, CA
Sharon, ID
Sharon Grove, KY
Sharonville, North Cincinnati, OH
Sharon Center, OH
Sharon Township, OH (Columbus suburb)
New Sharon, MA
Sharon, NC (in 4 different counties)

And, Sharon, Queensland, Australia (to be continued...)

"Crack" Bike -- aka Queenie

One of my friends has taken to calling my bike a “crack” bike to convey what she feels is my addiction. I’m as anti-drugs as they come, but I must admit to being stone hooked on this bike. On many occasions I’ve given myself whiplash by instantly spinning my head around to the telltale sound of a motorcycle engine—V-twin or not. I’ve never been a clotheshorse; in fact, I detest clothes shopping and I never try on anything but I have the coolest motorcycle wardrobe--I fuss over and change in and out of jackets and pants a lot. I’ve never cared much about what makes my car operate, but I want to take apart my bike and put it back together again. I read my bike’s manual like it’s the latest Toni Morrison novel. I care about the looks of my car and when it gets a scratch, I take care of it right away. When I found a microscopic paint chip on the tank of my bike, probably from a pebble, I nearly gave birth. I asked the shop how to get ride of it. After nearly kissing the take to find it, I was told to take some clear nail polish and put it over the chip to contain it. It was “too tiny” to warrant a new paint job.

Many years ago, someone tried to steal my new fire engine red, three-door Honda Civic SI. I don’t know why ultimately they decided not to pilfer it. Perhaps the person was turned off from it being a stick shift. They left the door open. They smoked cigarettes and tossed the butts on the floor and they really finked up the car. I was furious! I filed a police report and when they didn’t ask, I ask them when they would come to dust for fingerprints. Chicago’s finest said, “We don’t dust for fingerprints—you’re lucky they didn’t take the car. We’ve got your report—contact your insurance company if there is damage.” That was it! I’m convinced that stick shift averted the thief. I complained about the police department for a couple of days and bellyached about the nerve of thieves. However, this past summer someone tried to steal my bike. I hope it was the audible alarm that thwarted the plan, it probably made him (I know it was a male) jump off the bike and in doing so--the despicable, so-called human being—dropped my bike, breaking the brake lever, putting a major stress bend in the handlebar and damaging the right mirror. The right frame slider prevented a lot of potentially costly frame damage.

When I walked into the garage and saw my gal-pal in a heap on her right side, I stood above her in stunned silence. It did not look good. After up righting her and surveying the damage, I immediately yearned for revenge, a payback just short of murder. I imagined catching the person and disconnecting his penis from his body, hacking with a machete I would buy for the occasion, all the while yelling at him, “How does it feel to have someone take something from you that you cherish?!" I envisioned electrifying the bike and enticing the thief to return to the crime scene where I would watch his body illuminate as he settled atop the bike. I saw myself screaming one of those evil shrieks that Hollywood characters make when they take over planet Earth. Sometimes I saw the person mounting the bike and being instantly Krazy glued to the handlebars, seat, and sides so that there was no way to extricate himself. My perverse joy would come from finding him stuck there where I would then proceed slowly to pluck his eyebrows and eyelashes out one by one. Then I would pour honey on him or hot grits--the topical varied with my mood--and let loose a bunch of honey-loving/grits-loving bugs to devour him. I spent weeks of this crazy-thinking about the person who had the audacity to try to steal my bike.

I’m ordinarily a nonviolent, peace-loving person—I even took a “How Evil am I” test that proved I’m “good.” People will make you lose your religion, if you have one. I know now that all my nonviolence talk and practice will fly out the door if someone messes with my family or my bike. So I can see what my friend means about Queenie being my “crack” bike. Crack makes you do really crazy things, things you wouldn’t ordinarily resort to. That’s true. I now maintain an ever-growing list of things I want to do to the person I catch trying to steal my Crack-bike.

Thich Nhat Hanh and Mindful Motorcycling

What in tarnations does Thich Nhat Hanh have to do with motorcycling? Why when reading the essential writings of this gentle, Vietnamese Buddhist monk, am I thinking that his words resonate with how I feel about motorcycling? Maybe I’m a lot more desperate than I know and I’m now imagining motorcycling references embedded in spiritual texts. Or perhaps something of note really is there. So, I started thinking hard on Thich Nhat Hanh's concepts of being mindful in all things and applied mindfulness to the readings. This is what I figured out about mindful motorcycling.

By mindfulness, Buddhists mean deliberate, conscious and purposeful attention or awareness brought to one’s life, minute by minute. One lives in the moment. The past is gone; the future isn’t here yet. It is the now that is right here before us; it is the now to which we must be attuned. While few people ever achieve total mindfulness, one can live a life that includes far more mindfulness than one currently practices. So, I was thinking how being mindful of the present and being “in the moment” is entirely conducive to motorcycling excellence. To stay safe, one cannot afford to think of anything else while on two wheels. Riding and its related tasks like scanning the environment, keeping a space cushion, anticipating the moves of people and cars, especially people in cars require a tunnel vision that is simultaneously myopic and hyperopic. Safe riding demands constant monitoring of the road and the environment. Mindful attention necessitates a focused hyper vigilant. Does that make sense?



One of the things I love about motorcycling is that it requires me to center my energies on the riding task. Every fiber of my being thinks only about the ride. Whenever I feel my thoughts wandering, I have a strategy for reigning them in. I talk to myself a lot; the talk becomes mantra-like as I command the senses to attention. Its effect is not only relaxing, it is centering. And when I do it right, which sometimes happens, I feel at one with the bike, the road, the universe. I recall a time when I was riding west on Hwy 2 in the upper peninsula of Michigan, when I’d travel for a mile or so without seeing another car. On the north side was the Hiawatha National Forest, on the other side of the road, more trees, and open space. The ride had a quiet and surreal quality but I never experienced loneliness because the sounds emanating from the forest, like the rustling trees, chirping birds and the snapping and crackling of twigs, filled the air and made it all seem alive and miraculous. In retrospect, I recall being mindful and purposeful and at peace, totally aware and alert, but relaxed and it all happening rather concurrently. I remember moving with the bike, thighs tightly yet comfortably hugging the tank, feeling in perfect harmony, and relishing being in the moment--and mindful.

How evil am I?

I found one of these evil-o-meter tests on a friend's blog recently and came out "good." Perhaps I didn't believe it or maybe I'm just fishing for things to do, but I found another one and took that too. Here is the result.

You Are 16% Evil

You are good. So good, that you make evil people squirm. Just remember, you may need to turn to the dark side to get what you want!

How Evil Are You?

Now I have confirmation that I'm not too bad. And, even 16% is nothing to brag about--I do plan to improve myself! No, I don't need a test to tell me how evil I am. Not having a bike to ride every day results in this kind of time-robbing activity on my part! Bear with me...I hear that the riding season is not far off.

Welcome "Motorcycle Views" & old "friend"

I've never thought of myself as someone who doesn't handle change well. But the changes over at About.come have bothered me--a lot. I rarely visit anymore. The new place where many of the old timers now congregate has just not pulled me in enough to want to visit there often either. I've hung around other forums, one specific to my SV650, one aimed at touring CA, one aimed at adventure touring. But mostly I've just felt homeless, so to speak.

In these wee hours, as I lurked around Delphi to peek in on some familiar names, I learned that Walt Kern, former leader of the About.com community of motorcyclists, had started his own blog. I don't know Walt outside of his former job at About.com, but I know this: I, like everyone who frequented that site, learned from the best. It wasn't just Walt, it was also the stellar group of experienced riders assembled in that one spot. They always were ready to transmit sage advice, encourage triumph over one's fears, and chastise anyone who showed poor risk management skills. It is because of Walt's instructive content on and about motorcycles and motorcyclists that kept me coming back day in and day out. I posted a lot on that other forum because the provocative "conversations" always made me think and want to share information.

Walt's new space is aptly called Motorcycle Views. According to the stats on my blogspace, many lurkers drop by here. Well, here is some advice to all you lurkers: add Walt's new blog to your lurking list. This I know for certain: apply what you'll learn there and it just might save your life.

A Three-Wheeled Ride and a B&B for Motorcyclists

Source: http://www.motorcycledaily.com/16december06_piaggio.htm


It's funny to me that the Piaggio three-wheeled scooter --a really cute machine--is being touted as a ride for the "young and hip." I am neither. I don't want to be a motorcycle snob, but "young and hip"? I would never ride a scooter by choice. A scooter is something I'll reluctantly embrace when I'm just too old and the accumulated rust in my leg joint refuses to swing over my 31.5 inches seat height SV650. Still, I'm glad cute scooters are becoming de rigueur and that some have robust displacements and can hold their own on the highways and allow one to travel great distances. Every car I've owned has been a stick shift; I love my bikes that way too!

May my joints never fail me!

^^^
While reading Road Runner: Motorcycle Cruising & Touring (one of my absolute favorite magazines) an ad for Motorcycle-travel.net caught my attention. Went to their website, read testimonials, loved the idea being able to stay with liked-minded riders while out there on the road. All around, this sounds great, right? Then why the next day, after feeling really excited about this network, did I experience tremendous dread about this as a viable option for me? Rather than spout off the top of my head what's now bugging me about this service, I will give this deeper thought. For most people, I'm convinced that motorcycle-travel net will be a great addition to one's travel comfort--just as the testimonials confirm. My anxieties are my own prison. I'll try to articulate them in words so that even I can understand me better. I hope I can convey here what's the matter now!

(to be continued...)

HAPPY NEW YEAR! & a discovery

If you ride a motorcycle and you're reading this, and happen to reside in a place where you put your bike away at the end of fall, it means that you survived a full season of riding. Celebrate being alive and vow to keep it that way.

I became reflective this morning, thinking about all the 'cycle trips I want to take in the summer of '07. In addition to circling Lake Superior, I want to ride east to visit friends in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Washington, D.C. I'd love to go south too, to see folks in Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia. Time limits me severely, so I have to make choices. It's times like these that I regret (sort of) my decision to eschew a career in academia. Had I, I could spend the whole summer traveling via motorcycle. But I didn't and I don't and that can really tick me off if I let it.

After circling all the great lakes, I want to do a perimeter trip around the USA. So, I did a Google search to see if other motorcyclists who have done so had written about it. Almost immediately, I came across Mark Logsdon's site. Not only did he take such a journey, he did it for an extremely good cause. He did it to heightened awareness of ovarian cancer, a disease that caused the death of his beloved wife and motorcycle riding partner. I've only read some of his blog but plan to read it in its entirety. I had the idea to ride the Superior trip for a good cause too but abandoned the idea because I didn't want to put any undue pressure on myself. I'm willing to reconsider that now. I have some charities in mind and should at least find out how a trip I'm going to take anyway might also benefit others.

Here's the link to Mark Logsdon's blog. Check out his ride story--I think you'll find it inspirational. You know how sometimes you just get that feeling that you are destined to meet someone? I felt that way while reading Mark's blog. More than likely we'll never meet beyond his words, but reading them made me feel as if I know him a little.

Only one win-win resolution: I resolve to do all I can to ride safe, and stay safe, to ride always with confidence and within my skill level, to pay attention to the angels' voices who whisper cautions to me as they sit on my shoulders during rides. And always, always, ATGATT!

“…Of the big lake they call ‘Gitche Gumee.”

If you are a Gordon Lightfoot fan, you know that the blog title is the second line from the misty ballad, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” Lightfoot’s amazing voice turns this into a haunting tale set to beautiful music. For reasons not clear to me, “The Wreck…” has been circling in my brain for some time now. It led me to wondering about Gordon, what’s happened to him? I did a Google search (how did we ever live without the immediate access of search engines?) and printed out the lyrics to the song. Lightfoot's depiction of men lost in water and the mysteries of Lake Superior are profound. Interesting timeline of the ship's history.

I was surprised to learn that Lightfoot had, at one time, been near death but appears okay now. I’ve since downloaded my Lightfoot favorites on the MP3 player and the “…Edmund Fitzgerald” is now permanently etched on my brain! This led me to researching the name “Gitche Gumee,” which is an Anglicization of the Ojibwa “Gichigami,” which means “big water.” Who remembers the Wadsworth poem “The Song of Hiawatha,” where Gitche Gumee is mentioned? I think that’s the very first time I heard the term, when I had to memorize parts of the poem. Call it ocean envy, but in many ways both Lake Michigan and Lake Superior have always seemed like oceans to me: massive, deep, beautiful, and unpredictable, calm yet able to produce whipping waves, high winds, and deadly tombs. Scary sea creatures are the only thing missing in the lakes that I know of. But many other mysteries abound in lake waters.

While doing research for the Lake Michigan trip, I remember a couple of guys who endured my relentless need to go over every detail ad nauseum. They implied that I should just get on with it, go with the flow, and be more spontaneous. Given that, the preps for the Lake Superior tour are going to bug them. I’ve already started and the trip is about six month away! But in my defense, what may sound like anal retentive behavior to some, is my way of mentally preparing for the exploration, demystifying every aspect of the route, and facing whatever apprehensions may lurk beneath my skin about being out there alone. The preparation process produces a calming and anticipatory response. Remember, I’m alone out there. In my opinion, I don’t think any woman in her right mind ought to go anywhere—including—and perhaps especially on a motorcycle without having prepared a great deal. No offense, men, but some of you guys make venturing out alone difficult and sometimes dangerous for women. I wish I could throw caution to the wind, just hang loose and get out there too. Sorry, I don’t trust men that much. I’m not afraid to go anywhere, but I am going to to be smart about where I’m going. I expect the best, but prepare for the worst.

I need to know where I’m going; I need contingency plans; I need to see in my mind’s eye the curves and dips in the route--not so many as to detract from the fun--just enough to feel confident about riding my own ride. It’s when I’ve mastered my plans and reigned in my unconscious anxieties that I can comfortably and freely venture off the beaten path. I realize too that riding with someone can eliminate some of these rituals I create, but that hardly addresses the real issues, does it? We enter the world alone, and we will leave it alone. Riding solo is my mediation on being with me, myself, and I. It’s one of the few things I do now where my full and total presence is mandatory. Okay, before I get too maudlin, I’m going to close…