The Long Way Around

As I mentioned, America is frickin' huge. And going through it on scooter gives you an opportunity to dodge a lot of road kill. So! That in mind, here's a list of things I saw I could remember. I might not have actually identified the animal correctly btw.

Raccoons
Squirrels
Chipmunks
Skunks
Rabbits
Pigeons
A hawk
A raven
A badger
Possums
Snakes
Lizards
A large family dog
A small yippy dog
A jackalope
A baby cow
Cats
A sheep
A wood pecker
Deer
A chupacabra
A teddy bear

Here's the view from my room. Don't think I've ever seen the sun rise on a beach.

Wow.

I feel alive right now.

Here's travel distance.

God that's far.

Top speed, etc.

Jess and I can't figure out what went wrong exactly, but it took me out of fourth an probably fifth place. I know I beat Bagel time-wise but I might not have beaten him because of bonus points for pulling someone off the road.

The failure came up some 70 miles or so from Ocean City. Near 50 and Queen's Ave, I come to a stop light then suddenly I hear a loud grinding noise coming out of my transmission. As I try to take off, the bike crawls forward and can't keep a top speed. The whole time, just this loud 'grrr' is coming out of the case. I pull over at the next light, with my GT's transmission case smelling like burning.

The short of it, for those who know these things, is somehow the variator nut worked it's way loose so that nearly all of the nut was off of the threads on the crank shaft. This meant that when the variator would spool up, it would immediately slide out of place and end up at the edge of the case, killing my take off and top end. Of course, the other side effect was to also have the outer pulley half of he variator rub up against my transmission case, grinding away at it.

I pulled over and called Rolf to have him help in case, and I started ripping apart the transmission case. The irony here, for you nerds, is it turned out I ended up on Highway 404. Again, in some weird fortuitous circumstance, I pulled over directly in front of an auto repair shop, which is good because I couldn't find my 19mm socket. Removing the transmission case, I discovered it - my transmission failure.

I went ahead and tightened the nut and Rolf showed up and we made sure everything else was tightened to spec. Everything was slapped back on am off I went, 40 minutes later, and well behind others, losing my placing.

Oh well. The bike otherwise ran very well and competitively, so much so that it exceeded everyone's expectations.

The real point here is that I came in under my own power in a ridiculous trip on a machine that was not intended to be ridden the way I abused it or so many days. Rolf had threatened he support truck but I said, we're getting this on the road, an we did. My crank shaft splines may be toast but I'll figure that out later. Surely had I continued without pulling over the crank would be totalled, and I would not gave made it under my own power. I did the right thing. And Grace will ride again.

As I rolled in over the final bridge to Ocean City, I stood on my floor boards and let out a very satisfied yell. This was an adventure. I beat not only everyone else's expectations of the machine and my riding, but also my own. Made it far. Made a trip with some good friends an grew closer to others and made new friends.

That's Cannonball.

Windscreen is a mess. Can barely see through it. That's ten days and 3400 miles for you.

The leg shield is also a horror show of mutilated bugs. The butterfly is still in the stupid radiator cents and I have no idea how I will get ten thing out of there.

I was a little reticent to put the Cannonball sticker in the bike until I was done so that way I wouldn't jinx it.

Now that I'm on the other side of the country, it's on.

Grace, you will likely never see this beach again so enjoy the weather.

It is actually quite beautiful around here. Warm, nice sky. A bit touristy. Could be worse though. It's like Fisherman's Warf in SF, with a twentieth of the people wandering around.

They have everything you need here - mini-golf, laser tag, karaoke. It's all good.

You might not have been on this trip with me, but you were on the trip with me.

I thought about you constantly, in every moment I could (those where I was not distracted by tricky roads).

I missed you dearly every night, and every morning.

I brought these with me, and in a sense brought you too. So here you are, at Ocean City.

Sea life from California, meet the East Coast.

I'm sitting in Dulles International, where I've been for almost 4 hours, waiting for my flight. I got out here courtesy of Tony, Bobo's friend, to whom I am indebted, along with Kieran's friend, Collins (like the drink), who let me stow about in his truck.

Slowly, I'm starting to feel the various aches and pains that, until recently, managed to only be dull reminders of the previous day's nonsense. Instead, my lack of movement and focus on a task has given me the chance to focus instead on my tortured neck and back, along with my aggrivated carpal tunnel syndrome. My wrists will never be the same.

My thoughts bounce between two themes - wanting to see my family and not knowing what to do with myself anymore. Truly this was a life altering experience in so many ways, as ridiculous as it sounds. I never want it to end but I also know that it is unsustainable, fiscally or physically.

I'm torn about potentially doing this again. I almost would do this anyday at this point, perhaps structured differently as more of a tour. There was much I did not get a chance to see. At the same time the competitive aspect was entertaining.

My boy Aaron and I have spoken about doing such a thing at one point, something I could see doing with our significant others backing us in support vehicles. But I don't know.

There's a lot to digest that I still haven't done but will I'm sure. There is a lot to consider. To this exact second I don't even know where I egin with my day to day routine. It exists so far from me right now even though it is only a few days away.

I can't fight this confusion so I plan not to. I don't want the rush of finishing this ride to be absorbed by a sense of need to return to life. If I've learned anything at all, it's that sometimes you just have to tale things in as they come, and let life take it's course.

Patience has a new meaning when staring out into endless miles of road with nothing but your thoughts.