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We left Gary's bright
and early the next morning and he took us along the lake a little ways.
This is us, all suited up for some rain.
He was disappointed about the weather (judging from his post), but I
thought it was fine -- I don't like things too sunny; too much heat
that way. We found out that Marje's ignition switch was bouncing around
and by then she had also figured out her wrench had cut off her speedo
recalibration unit. So the rest of the trip was filled with mental math
excercises for her.
We filled
up with breakfast and really hit the road.
We drove hard all the way through the rest of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, encountering some of the worst weather of the entire trip. Including hail. We did OK as long as we were moving, but everything conspired to slow us down.
I discovered that my rain gear isn't perfect, that I had leaks (a problem I will solve before taking another trip), and so did the others. (For what it's worth: the Frogg Toggs are good until they are physically compromised by fatigue rips or burn holes; the Aerostitch triple-digit rain covers perform as advertised, but the Aerostitch booties don't work well with forward controls.)
Fortunately, I had dry socks in my tankbag, having remembered more seasoned travellers' advice about that and also holding it over from my canoeing days.
At one point, I pulled us all over because I was concerned for EZ's safety. Of all of us, he had no windshield or faceshield and it was HAILING. He shrugged it off and insisted we continue.
A word here about EZ: he was riding his girlfiend's brand-new STOCK XL1200C. And I do mean stock. Seat, drag bars, forward controls, no windshield, no changes to pipes, AC, jetting, suspension, nothin'. And this man went at least 4000 miles on his trip and OUTRODE all of us!
At some point that day, I pulled over when EZ did--he appeared to be having signal problems. Sure enough, his left turn signal had fallen off! I grabbed a wrench from my toolbag, he tightened things up and off we went again.
At an early stop in the
day, we were at a stop just past a rainstorm and were happily taking our
time warming up, having some coffee, and draining our tanks, if you know
what I mean.
So Marje
befriends another loner.
Nathan, or Hick, joined us for the rest of the trip. He rides a Dyna, I forget what year, and in a world of minimalists (motorcyclists have to be, right?), he is a master. He had neither tent nor sleeping pad -- apparently he planned to buy them along the way. He did, however, have two helmets. His rig was a little poorly packed -- which EZ rode his case about 'til he redesigned it. There was one point in the trip when he was holding it all from falling over with one hand while he tried to pull over and come to a stop with only the other.
Along about Chicago, or south of it, we ran into the world's giant permanent traffic jam. So many interstates come together, the traffic is tied up for good. This was a miserable experience, especially as it was raining. We got off at an exit and doddled around in a truckstop until the rain let up. A few miles down the road, the traffic finally let up, too. I am not a fan of traffic and had I been alone, would have hit the shoulder and passed it all.
We also made the decision to press on and reach Don's place near Cedar Falls, Iowa no matter what. This proved to be a challenge. At one point, we were riding in a hard rain, at night, in a single split-highway lane (you know, when they're doing road work and they move you over to share the other side of the highway) and had to space out more than normal. It was during this section that I discovered that if the windshield doesn't shed water like a duck's back, then its a liability and I wish I'd had the ability to stow the windshield on the back somewhere. Between the rain beading on my visor and the rain on the windshield, all glaring due to oncoming headlights, I simply couldn't SEE. Perodically, I stood up on the passenger pegs to wipe the windshield clear and see over the top. I am going to cut the windshield down so that this is no longer such a problem.
Mercifully, the rain stopped and we ploughed through the last couple hundred miles on pure adrenaline. Don has a knockout place on a jut of land between two portions of a lake (or river) and an elevated house. He owns a very slick black-and-white XLR and also restores old bicycles as a hobby. He had a handful on display in his house. Quite impressive. We spent a very pleasant night there, again thanks to Marje's prior groundwork.
LONG damn day. About 733 miles.
