Thanksgiving 2010: Not in California. Not on a Kawasaki. This Time by Choice

I've been really, really busy.  Call it a work deadline, if you will.   The light at the end of the tunnel, the one I had been aiming towards for almost two months, was Thanksgiving.  I had SIX DAYS OFF, and no deadline looming afterward.  I was going on a moto trip.  Yes, yes I was.  No matter what.  The original plan was Baja - the whole darn thing, all the way down to Cabo.  3000 miles in six days?  Without riding at night?  And actually seeing (and eating) a thing or two along the way?  Um, that's not going to work out.  Ten days (or more) would be better.  So that was scrapped.  I turned down a number of lovely holiday invites as well. I was GOING ON A TRIP.  Where?  Honestly, I didn't do much planning or thinking - I really didn't have the time or extra mental capacity - but I finally and hastily settled on a loop taking in Joshua Tree National Park, Salton Sea, Anza Borrego State Park, and the Algodones Sand Dunes.  Not great riding perhaps (800 miles of highway and not much else) but it was A TRIP.  The week, the day even, before I left I was still scrambling with work and general catching up with life tasks that had been swept aside in the previous weeks.  I had the sum total of one hour of daylight to make a final adjustment to the luggage capable Kawasaki, (Ducati to gain luggage capability in December - hurrah!)  and no daylight hours to actually test it before departure.

My self-imposed nighttime riding restriction dictated I hit the road at first light.  It's too dim for me to ride by 5:30 this time of year,  I had 350-400 miles of riding ahead of me that day (someday I'll explain why it takes longer to get anywhere on a moto, no matter how fast you like to ride), I like to leave room for error, (remember my "error" of September?), and I was informed getting a campsite was going to be quite a trick.  Who knew camping was so popular at Thanksgiving?  The alarm went off before dawn and I piled on every possible layer.  Silk base layer, turtle neck sweater, heated vest, motorcycle jacket with winter liner, and even my rain suit.  It was 40 degrees, and that is c-c-cold when you factor in the motorcycle wind chill factor.  No matter.  I hit the road - no way was I going to squander six precious days off.

Cruising westbound on I-10, I finally had time to think.  Let's do the math, shall we?

The pros:

• I finally get to check out places I've passed by a number of times and have always been curious about.
• I'd probably take a cool hike in Joshua Tree.

The cons:

• 700-800 miles of highway riding  - borrrring! - and little to no "fun" riding
• Temperatures projected to hover around freezing each night.
• I'd probably be twiddling my thumbs at a really cold campsite or cheap and depressing hotel from 4:30pm to 7am each day.
• Kawasaki (which, as it turned out, was still not performing optimally despite my many attempts to correct it) vs. new Ducati
• Granola bars for Thanksgiving Dinner
• Speed traps seemingly every mile, and the Kawasaki has given up the radar detector set up to the Ducati. (It's more complicated than you would guess to switch it back.)
• Wearing "safety gear" with a big hole in it (um, that sort of defeats the purpose, to some degree), while my new jacket would likely be delivered that very day.

And if I stayed home?

• Mountain roads every day on my Ducati (in my new jacket!*)
• Plenty of as-of-yet unexplored hiking here in Tucson
• Good eats and socializing after dark
• Warm (relatively speaking) house for sleeping

After 60 miles, I turned the bike around.  I admit, it was hard to do.  I was swearing loudly in my helmet as I reversed direction.  Silly, maybe, but I felt like a bit of a quitter.  Wisdom prevailed (for once) though, and I realized that, purely out of stubbornness, I was about to squander my vacation by trying too hard not to squander it.


So, instead of looking like this:

(Archival photo of me being miserably cold.  In July.  In Utah.  Imagine me waking up to a 33 degree campsite.)

and this (blech):

My Thanksgiving vacation looked like this:

Daily "training runs" up and down (and up and down, and up and down and up and down) Kitt Peak on my awesome Ducati.  No traffic, no police, and now (hurrah!) no more loose gravel!

and this:
Bread hot from the oven.  (Potato Bread, except as an experiment that I will most definitely repeat, I used turnips!)

and this:
Brown Mountain Trail

and this:
Arugula parmesan thin crust pizza.  Tomato sauce source described here.  So good!  So easy!

and (not shown):
Angus Burgers with Double Truffle Fries, lounging in sunbeams while reading books, watching movies, catching up with good friends and good wines, long walks and warm snuggly time with my beloved three-legged Dalmatian, sleeping in, real coffee, warm bowls of my miso soup after chilly morning rides...

I'm not the only foodie who isn't particularly enamored with a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.  Turkeys should really be disassembled before cooking to get every bite done just so, even if you do brine them, and there are just too many too heavy casserole-ish side dishes.  All too often it's a quantity over quality meal.  It can be done well, but, sadly, usually isn't.

My Thanksgiving dinner?  Osso buco** over polenta.  Hah!  The picture isn't pretty (neither is Thanksgiving dinner, once it hits your plate), but the sauce left me swooning in my kitchen like a lovesick 15 year old.  Don't worry, I had apple pie for dessert.

 

Don't get me wrong.  I am more than ready and willing for some motorcycle camping "hardship" when the time is right.  But this week I was surprised to find that turning my bike around and going home would be the best decision I've made in a long time.

*Miscommunique about the jacket.  It's projected to arrive this  Wednesday, not last Wednesday.
** Except I used grass-fed, humanely raised CSA beef shanks rather than conventionally (i.e. cruelly) raised veal.

 

That "Self-Imposed Night Time Riding Restriction" I keep talking about.

When it's dark, I can't see. For real. I'm not particularly confident driving a car at night, but one does what one has to do. (I recently had a car passenger gently suggest he take over the driving, after sensing his life was in danger with me at the helm after nightfall.) But you need a heck of a lot more visual input to ride a motorcycle than to drive a car. ONE time I tried to ride my motorcycle after dark. It was frighteningly similar to riding with my eyes completely shut. Where does the road go? No idea. When do I put my feet down? Um, now? No, now! So I am quite confident in saying I would be much safer hitch hiking or sleeping in a ditch by the side of the road than riding after dark. Since I wish to do none of these things, I allow myself plenty of room for error when riding, and plan to arrive at my destination an hour, or, even better, two hours before sunset.

No one really wants to ride at night. The problem of your visibility (other drivers seeing YOU) is compounded many times over. But it would be nice to have the option in a pinch, when hunting down a campsite, for instance, or after a nice dinner. But despite the ophthalmologists and hundreds of dollars on special glasses and contact lenses, the fact remains the same. Cinderella must be in well before sunset, or Cinderella likely becomes one smashed up pumpkin.

The Daily Special (Generic Sustainable Fish with Random Vegetable)

I haven't really been able to ride much lately, which is particularly frustrating when your beloved new Ducati has returned from the shop after a month long absence. I've had a weird and intense head cold, and it must be messing with my middle ear or sinuses or something, because I can't really judge speed, distances, or even where my body is in space at all.   As it turns out, this is a pretty big problem when you are trying to aggressively ride a sport bike up (and down) a mountain road.  I'm also buried in work right now, which doesn't do much for one's ability to recreate.

So I'm fairly grumpy.

Here's my "I'm So Grumpy I'm Slamming Pots and Pans Around for No Reason" Ten Minutes or Less dinner that I made tonight. Not bad, given my state of mind, now that I think of it.

Recipe:
Put leftover roasted potatoes* in toaster oven.  Go post a few comments on Facebook about being grumpy, because the potatoes will probably take 10 minutes, and it will only take you four minutes to prepare the rest of dinner.

Remove one of the  pieces of generic sustainable fish you now stash in the freezer (I like halibut) because it turns out most days you don't approach consuming even half of the RDA of protein for a person of your gender, age and size.  Not that you believe everything the government says in regards to what you should eat (or in regards to anything at all), but come on, HALF of the RDA?  Perhaps that might have something to do with your hypoglycemia??  Ya THINK?  Anyway, take the piece fish you transferred from freezer to fridge yesterday and put it in a microwave safe dish.  Yes, I said microwave. I don't use it for much, but for fish it's not a bad way to go.  Even James Peterson says so.  Sprinkle said fish with salt and pepper, splash with two or three tablespoons of white wine (pour yourself a glass while you're at it), and top with a pat of butter.  Cover the whole thing with a plate or something, since plastic wrap gives you the creeps.  Microwave for one minute, while chopping up your random vegetable.  (a tomato and slice of onion in this case)  Whack!  Whack! Whack!  Check your fish - it will probably need another minute.  Turn it if you are so inclined.  Saute your vegetable for a minute in olive oil.  Check fish.  Add another 30 seconds.  (YMMV**)  Continue sauteeing the random vegetable, while you viciously grab a green leaf or two from your herb garden.  If you don't have one, it doesn't matter.  Look to your spice cabinet (make sure you slam the cabinet door), or omit all together.  Add that to your random vegetable.  Ding!  Fish is done. Dump random vegetable on top of it and throw pan into sink.  Crash!  Apologize to the dog for startling her.  Ding!  Potatoes are done.  Take ONE photo of your finished product, because you are in no mood.  No.  Mood.  Click.
Total prep time, 10 minutes, but blame that excessive delay on the left over potatoes.
*If I wasn't grumpy, or if I had either in the fridge, I'd use polenta or rice instead.
** Your Mileage May Vary

Colorado Collage - Photos

Here's that Colorado photo collage I was going to post in, oh, May or June. I think if you click on it, you can see it in its full glory. This entry goes along with the Colorado Word Collage and the Colorado Map I posted more promptly. I didn't have lots of great pictures, since this was about the time my Lumix digicam bit the dust.
Time to get crackin' writing up my summer Utah travels, lest I have another glut of "What I Did Last Summer" posts this spring.

Gearing up for the long cold winter...

I made my annual trip to Richcrest Farms to can tomatoes a week or two ago (on the Kawasaki.)  You gotta love a top box that fits a case of canning jars!  I'll spare you the details, since I wrote about it here a couple of years ago, but I thought I'd show you my winter rations to date.



Top shelf: Mexican lime curd, prickly pear jelly, pickles, strawberry preserves
Middle shelf: raspberries, peaches, rhubarb
Bottom shelf: tomatoes, tomato juice, apricots

It hasn't been a great year for stocking up.  The fruit in Utah came late, and I had to leave before I could get my cherries and blueberries.  Somehow I didn't get as many apricots as usual, either.  It was a bad year for tomatoes in Arizona, too. For a while, it looked like I'd be buying canned ones for the first time in several years, but I managed to get a few quarts at the eleventh hour.

Soon to be added:  apples, applesauce, and the pate I raved about here.

The contents of my freezer are getting interesting as well, but the freezer is not quite as photogenic as my cabinet.

 My sharp eye noticed some new wheels at the farm.  I wonder which set belongs to Farmer Jim.

Pleasant surprise on the way home from Richcrest:  the ten mile stretch of Dragoon road was completely a-flutter in butterflies!

Next time:  I swear I'll visit the pistachio orchard I pass by each year on the way to the farm.  I'm always worried about that pesky night-time riding constraint of mine.  Word on the street is that this year was a bumper crop.

Baby, We're Back! (Maiden Voyage II)

When I looked out my bedroom window upon rising one recent morning and saw this...

...it startled me!  A desert Santa left me a Ducati under the mesquite tree!  In reality, of course, I had picked it up from the dealer the afternoon before, almost one month to the day after its demise.  But I was so loopy with a nasty cold that it was all I could do to ride it the few miles home from the shop.

"That's a mighty nice bike you got there, Pretty Lady, " said the guy who watched me take this picture. A sleek, sexy, Italian bike does wonders for any gal's looks - call it "Ducati Goggles."

I was going to take an awesome picture with a drop dead background to celebrate the event.  I really was.  I even borrowed a tripod for the occasion. (Thanks, Martha!).   But fiddling with the tripod, finding the best viewpoint (a counter-intuitive process, I discovered), positioning the bike just so etc., kinda takes the sport out of sport riding.  It was as bad as, if not worse than trying to take a good picture of your dinner when you'd rather be eating it.  So I snapped all of two I-really-should-fix-my-helmet-hair-shots, said "enough of THIS," and hit the road.  Vroom!

Ducati 696: more money than I had any business spending.
Air cooled bike that smokes my hams at stoplights: yow!
Speeding tickets: might become a problem

Unbeatable power to weight ratio, torque to spare, and feet flat on the ground: as they say, priceless.

Baby, we're back!

Due to popular request (that means by more than one person! By some people I haven't even met, believe it or not!), I've added ways to subscribe to this silly blog of mine. For email notification, look at the top right of the page. At the bottom right of the page you can "follow" or get notifications on your browser bookmark bar. Hope it works!  

Epilogue

So, as you know, I made it to California, finally (albeit not with the Ducati), without the slightest of problems.  I did make it back, too, but with a little help from my friends, pictured at left.

0800 hours - depart San Diego

80 mile point (aka - in the middle of the desert) - in a dramatic cloud of white smoke, dump ALL of your coolant.  Hmm.  This is going to be a problem, no?  Be grateful because:

• You can dismantle practically your entire motorcycle with your leatherman.
• Because the screw that holds the stray coolant hose decided to lodge itself in the hose well, rather than go skittering onto (or off of) the highway, somewhere.... anywhere...  Metric screws are not easily replaced in the middle of nowhere.
• And finally, be VERY grateful that this particular "middle of nowhere" happened to house a border patrol checkpoint. So you could actually refill your motorcycle with water after repairing it.  I carry water, but not THAT much.

130 mile point - fill up with gas, peer at hoses and fluid levels.  Hmm.  Oil is down.  Note that your valve cover gasket appears to be self-destructing.  Pick up some gasket goo at the truck stop, apply, add oil.  (Aren't you glad you packed some of your motorcycle specific oil, just in case?)

260 mile point - fuel up, reassess.  Apply more gasket goo. Reattach license plate that is hanging on by a thread with zip ties. No self respecting motorcyclist EVER leaves home without zip ties.

1600 hours and 400 mile (or so) point - arrival!  400 miles and three roadside repairs in 8 hours.  Not bad!

16:10 hours - fall asleep

Next day - order new gasket.  Here we go again...

Yes, there is packing tape in that picture.  Guesses? (from those of you who don't already know what I love to use it for)


Due to popular request (that means by more than one person! By some people I haven't even met, believe it or not!), I've added ways to subscribe to this silly blog of mine. For email notification, look at the top right of the page. At the bottom right of the page you can "follow" or get notifications on your browser bookmark bar. Hope it works!