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Kitsap's Torrey Ride Tale


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(Moved from the "Post Torrey Stress disorder...." thread.)



Here's how I dealt with mine.. Sorry it's long but writing it all down helped.


The Ride:


On Monday the fourth of May I took the RT in to get new tires on. I know I should buy a good tire changing stand but I’ve been penny wise pound foolish. The plan was to get Pilot Roads put on for the upcoming Spring Torrey ride. With plans to visit parts of 6 states I didn’t want to mess with tire business on the road. Not until the following Saturday did I notice that the shop had installed a Z6 on the front and a Pilot Road on the rear. This snafu resulted in me retreating to South Sound BMW on Thursday, my departure date, for the correct front tire.


Kissing my kids and wife good night on Wednesday evening, May 9th, I was both looking forward to and regretting the marrow. Andrew and Annika are growing so fast that every moment lost feels like an escaped treasure. I also find it difficult to sleep without my soul mate, alas motorcycle riding is not one of her interests.


Day 1: Vancouver WA. to Ashland OR.

I-5 south to Vancouver, WA. was fast if uneventful. Uncle Bill and aunt Barb always make me feel as if arriving home. There home is a special place and a great location for jumping off in many directions.


Getting ready the next morning for the Oregon coast I found a big plate of eggs, bacon and toast staring up at pleading to be eaten. Chased down by a couple cups of joe I found myself well stuffed for the day. Hugs and kisses and off I was to the first destination.


Riding in to Corvallis the first thing one notices is all the orange banners, shirt and stickers. Corvallis is the home of the Oregon State Beavers, a truly fearsome mascot. Wearing my WSU Cougar ball cap into the local Safeway I could feel the cold stares upon my back, sweet.


Oregon Hyw.34 from Philomath to Waldport is a great road when not following a motor home. Following the lay of the land the roadway rises, dips and weaves along the northern perimeter of an agriculture valley. South of Waldport to Reedsport the usual coastal weather depressed me with gray skies and cold off shore winds, I had no problems heading inland along Highways 38 and 138 to I-5 and my eventual destination of Ashland.


My aunt Barb recommended a little restaurant in Ashland called Munchies. Reviewing the menu out front I met an elderly couple from Casper Wy., Frank & Joann. We shared a wonderful conversation over dinner comparing the past to the present. I had decided to pay for their meal in appreciation for the good time but Joann was too quick, she had decided the same and snatched the checks from the waitress before I could blink. I protested but was scolded for arguing with an elder. As a society in general we give much too little time and respect to those that ran the country before us.


To end the evening I climbed the stairs to the Black Sheep Bar. Enjoying a tall glass of New Castle Brown Ale I struck up a conversation with some female theater students of Southern Oregon University that had invited themselves to my table. The dimly lit bar was my friend, these ladies seemed determined to make me blush and they were succeeding. Being a married man and knowing my next days itinerary I made way for my room.


Day 2: Ashland OR. to Tonopah NV.

Wolfing down waffles & juice from the Best Western buffet line I rushed to hit the road by 8:15am. Oregon Route 66 was serenely empty of traffic yet full of blooming color. Winding up steeply from the valley floor each switchback offered crisp views of the verdant green valley floor dotted with trees and blooming flowers below. The ride was a tease; confidence soaring with clean, well set turns would be dashed by the rare section bathed in a low rising sun hiding gravel. A few heart skips later found me in Klamath Falls filling 91 octane into Audrey.


Klamath Falls to Tonopah was an uneventful blur. With short stops in Alturas & Standish Ca. I made quick time to Reno. With a tail wind most of the way I was making good time in comfort. From Reno to Fallon and on to Tonopah it was a slog. The topography held nothing for me, now with a head wind I was simply focused on the destination. This little town depressed me; a dark gray sky, gritty streets, boarded up businesses and the “S” burned out at the SHELL gas station sign lowered my spirits. After a quick shower and dinner I sought sunlight in the voice of my 6 year old daughter. Promising I would call every night before her bed time that sweet little voice saying “I love you daddy,” lifted my spirits and set my mood straight.


Day 3: Tonopah NV: to Queen Creek AZ.

Tonopah quickly disappeared in my mirrors at 7:15am sharp. A little after 10am I was in the parking lot of the first In & Out Burger joint I had seen in over a year. Las Vegas has gambling but for a transplanted Californian, pre 1978, this was the real attraction. I was a complete Homer staring at my burger and fries.


Hoover Dam was hot and crowded with tourists, not my thing. Stopping in Kingman the gas station attendant said it would be slow going to Phoenix due to the returning weekend Vegas crowd. Heading south on 93 doing a consistent 80 I was passed by a platoon of sport bikes at a much higher speed, it’s nice to have rabbits out front. Just north of Wickenburg one of the hares was receiving a performance award while his mates waited further on; I really need to buy a Valentine 1 and not use others so callously.


After sitting in traffic for 2 hours due to numerous accidents in the Phoenix area I met my folks, cleaned up and took them out to dinner for Mother’s Day.


Day 4: Arizona Al’s

After work I cruised to Al’s for a pair of long sought audio plugs. While I waited for another gent to be fitted Al offered up his pool for a cool down, had their been fish in the pool they’d have gone belly up, aaaaaah. The plugs were as advertised and have been one of the best riding investments I’ve made, a shameless plug.


Day 5: After working the week in Mesa off to Boulder City.

I got to meet Terry, Wurty, Russell, Fernando and many others I can’t remember for the first time. Apprehensive, I was welcomed in from the get go. Relaxing out front with a beer Jamie & Leslie roll up! The last hugs from these two were in Spokane. What a great group of people and great food too.


Day 6: Boulder to Torrey

Jamie, Leslie, Eric, Doc, Gary, Pilgrim and myself made our way around Lake Mead via the North Shore Road. Leaving at 7am the toll booth was closed and the road was gratis. Having not ridden with this group before I felt subconscious, focusing on my lines excessively instead of just letting it flow. At one point I didn’t notice the LEO coming the other way while doing 75 in a 50, no harm no fowl.


We lost Jamie & Leslie at Cedar City. Cooling off at the Sonic Drive In it was apparent it was the end of the day for Leslie, it was good to have Doc there.


While gassing up in Cedar City Pilgrim and I witnessed an accident in the station parking lot. An early model Datsun pickup backed up without looking clipping a passing sedan just behind us, timing is everything.


Hyw.14 to 89 to 12 was a blast. For someone that is slightly acrophobic Hells Backbone was a thrill. At this point it was just Pilgrim and I as we had stopped for pictures, Doc had pealed off for Bryce Canyon.


Day 7: Torrey

Sweeper madness alone Saturday morning; leaving Torrey around 8am the tar snakes were cold and set for a blast up 72. Interrupted only by some bovine foreplay it was a fun run to the terminus at highway 70 to the north. Turning around I arrived at the summit just minutes before a blue Triumph screamed its announcement at the summit. Alone at the turnout, a lazy breeze pushing small puffy clouds across a brilliant blue sky, I couldn’t help but be reflective of times past. Briefly after the Triumph’s arrival the remainder of the group cascaded in, a lovely mix of exhaust notes and textile colors. Some of the riders sat a while on their bikes reflecting on the moment, others wiped a tear or two. Words were spoken, nods were exchanged and pictures were taken….


The remainder of the day was spent riding Capital Reef, doing a little hiking a pining for family.


Spent most of the BBQ with Crazy Canuck & flyingreg telling stories and making pigs of ourselves.


Back at my room I found that one of my earplugs was missing. My roommate, who will remain nameless, snored so I had to sleep with my right ear in the pillow all night. It’s okay Tank you’re still loved. Thanks for finding the right ear plug Al.


Day 8: Bound for home.

Not sure how for I’ll get I leave Torrey at 6:22am local time. No police or deer sightings all the way to SLC. Everyone must be in church as there is no traffic anywhere. Idaho is posted 75 almost all the way to Boise and the miles are flying bye while Chicago, Three Dog Night, Pink Floyd and Santana play in my ears. And then comes the Oregon border and one of that states finest. With a posted speed of 65 Mr. Officer holds this pace all the way until his turnoff at Baker City. The wind and rain have begun for the first time during my trip and will not abate until I hit Vancouver Wa.. As Pilgrim knows I had sent my rain and non-perforated gear home the week before stating emphatically it would not rain this trip, stupid me. Soaked and cold I arrive in Vancouver at 8:35 pacific time.


Day 9: Home

I-5 is boring but thankfully fast. My kids school bus stops at the end of drive, both kids come running up and nearly nock me over with hugs. It’s good to be home.

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Nice tale Wade!

I am sorry that I missed the Spring Torrey.

I will there in the Fall for sure!!


Drop me line sometime!


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Wow! I thought you dropped off the face of the earth after the UN in Cody, good to "see" ya clap.gif


Shouldn't you be replacing your avitar since that bike is toast eek.gif

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Pictures! C'mon! For us working stiff Easterners now...


I did see your mug in one of the off site Torrey posts:



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