I lived off my motorcycle for a month seeing friends.
I left QH on September 6 and got back October 9, rode 4,701 miles through six states, saw 16 old friends, made 8 new friends, and learned a few things about motorcycle maintenance on the road.
Before I left, I needed to replace the fork seals on my CB500F.
In order to replace the forks seals on my CB500F, I had to build a beam so I could hoist the bike with the front wheel off.
Then I rode north to scout locations for fest25. It was between the coast and Bend, based on smoke and weather. I checked out the coast first. I got soaked on my way there, rode into a storm cell on 5 that's the heaviest rain I've ever been in. Of course I hadn't put on my weatherproofs so I got soaked to my socks. I made it to Coos Bay, checked the weather, saw that the storm I'd just ridden through was due to the forest I had planned to camp in, said "f that", and got a motel 6 for the night.
In the morning I noticed that the bracket that holds my muffler on had lost its bolts and my muffler was just hanging. Derp. I walked to a hardware store, bought loctite and two bolts, got that sorted, and went north towards Newport.
The vibe was crowded and touristy. Lots of traffic and your only road option is the PCH. Wasn't psyched. Checked weather and smoke forecasts, saw that it was a wash between the coast and Bend, so made the call to do fest in Bend. Stayed the night in the forest above Neskowin that night:
Distributed camping along the Oregon coast can be difficult... but it's not impossible. There are gems such as this one.
The next day I rode to Bend. As I was rolling through Sisters I felt bad chain slap. Pulled into the nearest parking lot. Chain slack was like 3+", bad! Of course I'd left my tools by the front door at home so I couldn't tighten it myself. I looked up.... and discovered I was parked in front of a motorcycle shop. 20 min later my tension was adjusted and off I went.
I found a spot, chilled for a day, then people started showing up and we did fest number 3.
After fest I visited with my homie who lives in Bend, then rode down to near Truckee for my bff's bday. Her place is an offgrid maker's paradise. We prepped for the party, went to swimming holes, I replaced the chain on my bike because the old one was shot (which involved buying a chain breaker tool), and partied.
My next destination was to meet E in Taos and spend a week living in Earthships. I chose to ride 50 straight through Nevada. Loved it. Somewhere in NV:
This is me about to ride into an electrical storm. I got to Eureka (nestled into the base of those hills in the shot), fueled up, and noted that there was about an inch of hail on the streets of Eureka. I shrugged and rode on into the night, had another 60 miles to my intended campsite. 20 minutes past Eureka I was surrounded by lightning. You're pretty safe from lightning in a car - not because of the rubber, because of the metal cage you're in that directs the energy around you. You are *not* safe from lightning on a bike. I turned around, hightailed it back to Eureka, and solved my 'I don't want to die tonight in this storm' problem with money by getting a motel room.
The next night I camped outside of Durango. I stormpitched my tarp over my bivvy for another lightning storm. I was in a forest on a slope, so, not worried about lightning strikes. Dug a shallow trench around my bivvy to direct runoff around me. The morning was frosty. Ice on my kit as I stowed it, ice on my seat and helmet as I took off. Thank god for heated grips.
Then I got to Taos, met E there, and spent a week in two different Earthship rentals. We did a bunch of hikes in the area, drove the Enchanted circle, checked out every thrift shop in town, found the best coffee shop (The Coffee Apothecary), did the Earthship Tour, and soaked up Earthship living.
At the end of our time in Taos E flew back to Alaska and I put in a long day to SLC. My friend Sam lives there (I met him in 2018 when I took the WFR course, and he wound up sheltering in place with us at QH during lockdown). I helped him buy a moto, hung out with his roommates, and then he left to hunt Elk. He introduced me to a friend of his who has done a ton of cool stuff and has a similar frame/vision for what's worth working on in terms of The Flotilla.
We ended with a hike intended to be an overnight summit of Pfiefferhorn, but long story short I was unprepared for the conditions. It had snowed so even our intended campsite had 8" of snow and I didn't have the sleeping system or footwear to summit safely (in terms of my toes, which have poor circulation and get cold quickly) or camp (in terms of not having a nightmare night of having to walk in circles all night to keep warm, if my situation got wet). We did a scramble up and over a ridge and so it turned into an enjoyable all day hike in terrain more technical than I've done (without gear), while carrying the gear and food required for an overnight. I'm now motivated to address those skill, knowledge, and gear gaps pronto. Good thing I live in Alaska now where I can hammer all those details out.
From the intended camp spot, looking up at Pfiefferhorn:
On the ridgeline:
Looking back up at the ridgeline we descended from:
The final leg of my journey was a diagonal across NV from SLC to Bishop, and then home. The section of highway 6 between Ely, NV and Tonopah was, by my odomoter, 177miles gas station to gas station. There was a ripping headwind the whole way so I had maybe 10 miles of range left on the bike. I really enjoyed both of my rides through the most deserted parts of Nevada. I don't, like, want to live there, but it has great Mad Max sans people vibes.
My last night on the road was outside of Bishop at one of my favorite camp spots tucked up at the base of a ridge with views of the Eastern Sierra Nevada.
My plan upon returning home was to sell the bike.
I… may have talked myself out of that plan.
One of my takeaways from this month was that I love my friends, I love meeting new friends, I love spending time with them and working on projects with them and being in the mountains with them. It’s an enormous sense of meaning for me.
And my friends are scattered across the Western US. A motorcycle is one solution for rapid access to my friends, and it’s one that reliably forces me to learn new skills and pay attention to my environment.
So I winterized it, will drop the insurance coverage to minimums while I’m away, and it will be waiting for me when I need it again.