Naco Taco Thanksgiving Run

By Mike Huber

For most, Thanksgiving is a time to spend with family and friends watching football and performing the “eat, drink, nap, repeat” cycle. This is, of course, never a bad way to spend this holiday but finding myself in Bisbee, Arizona I thought changing it up from the traditional turkey feast would be beneficial.

Bisbee, Arizona is a late 1880s copper mining town that turned in its explosives, shovels, and rock drills to grow into a more artistic town with historic hotels, quirky shops, and lots of festivals. Being that this tiny community is nestled in the canyons of southernmost Arizona (just minutes from the Mexican border), an idea struck me. I had not visited Mexico since February, and although this sounds crazy, I was craving tacos. Being this close to Mexico it felt almost a necessity to partake in a run to the border to extinguish my craving.

Fifteen minutes later I found myself parking the car and walking about 50 yards through a turnstile much like you would see in a New York City subway entrance. It was that easy and I was in Naco, Mexico. Another 200 yards and I was at a restaurant called Asadero Los Molcajetes which I had frequented several times when I crossed on my BMW GS to ride mainland Mexico. This restaurant to me always represented the gateway to Mexico and was a symbol of happiness.

Asadero Los Molcajetes is a perfect stop for when you are riding across and must get your visa stamped and the bikes inspected since it is right next to where you have those tasks completed. The restaurant provides you the opportunity to celebrate entering Mexico with some outstanding tacos (along with a cold Pacifico or margarita) to wash them down, while taking in that special moment to realize that your trip has officially begun.

The tacos were exactly what I had been craving. Even before the tacos were served, we had a large plate of several different hot sauces. Chips, cucumbers, and onions rounded out this first course. Usually, chips in any Mexican restaurant are one of my biggest diet downfalls. They put that bowl out and its rare I don’t require it to be reloaded prior to my food arriving. By then I am much too full to fully enjoy the meal. This time, however, I managed what little self-control I have and made sure to go easy so that I could enjoy the carne asada tacos.

The brilliance of Mexico is that when you order two tacos, there is an extra shell underneath. This is for when all that deliciousness of your fully loaded taco falls out. BOOM! You now have a third taco!

After four tacos (six with the extra shells and my sloppiness) I felt just as full as I would have had I eaten a normal Thanksgiving feast. It was time to burn off a few calories by walking around Naco before my 200-yard journey back to the United States. Returning to the United States was just as easy as entering Mexico. “Reason for your trip to Mexico, sir?”. I simply stated, “Thanksgiving tacos, sir,” and I was waved through.

A unique Thanksgiving for sure and as I drove back to Bisbee, I could feel it was time for a solid nap. The nap would signify completing the “eat, drink, nap, repeat” cycle. I next started wondering how late Asadero Los Molcajetes was open for the possibly of Cycle Number Two.

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Old Town Albuquerque

Our destination on this trip was the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta (the 50th Anniversary Balloon Fiesta, at that!), and we stayed in Albuquerque for the event. One of the stops on this adventure was old town Albuquerque. Touristy? You bet. But it was still fun. I had my Nikon and a 24-120 lens (a real boat anchor camera and lens, to be sure), but I enjoyed myself wandering around and taking pictures.

A plaque below the statue shown in this blog’s featured photo.

That fellow in the statue up above? That’s Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdés, Spanish governor of New Mexico, who founded La Villa Real de San Francisco de Alburquerque (what we know as Albuquerque) in April 23, 1706.

Albuquerque is one of the oldest towns in New Mexico.

Albuquerque, population 550,000, is New Mexico’s biggest city. We were there for four days. We hit old town Albuquerque on Day 1. Kitschy, corny, but cool. We enjoyed it, and there were plenty of photo ops. There’s a lot to see and do in Gresh’s home state.

A ristra is a cluster of dried red chiles you see hanging in many places in New Mexico. They can be decorative, ot they can be used for cooking. This one was hanging in a doorway in old town Albuquerque.

Another ristra hanging in old town Albuquerque.

A salsa store. There’s lots of it in old town Albuquerque.

On this topic of chiles and authentic New Mexico salsas: In New Mexico Mexican restaurants the question that every waiter asks is: Green or red? That’s for the kind of salsa you want with your meal. Red salsa is made of crushed red chiles that are reconstituted into a red liquid salsa. Green is a bit chunkier with larger pepper pieces included in the mix. They told us that green is the spicier of the two, but I think it depends on the restaurant. The New Mexicans advised us that a good answer for the red or green question is “Christmas, on the side.” You know, red and green. That will get you a dish of each salsa.

A doorway to one of the many shops in old town Albuquerque.

Our tour guide advised us to avoid the restaurants in old town Albuquerque, so we ate at a Mexican place just outside of Old Town. I love New Mexico, but I’m convinced any restaurant in or close to a tourist destination is going to be mediocre. Our lunch didn’t change my mind.

The San Felipe de Neri Church is one of the oldest buildings in Albuquerque. It dominates old town Albuquerque. This church was originally used by Franciscan missionaries. It’s still in use. All of the tourists (and there were a lot of them) congregated outside the church. I checked the door and it was unlocked. I ducked inside and grabbed a quick available light photo.

Inside the San Felipe de Neri Church. I have more than a few photos that look like this from visits to churches elsewhere, including some dynamite photos from the missions in Baja. I use the last pew as a camera rest.

So there you have it…one guy’s photo interpretation of an afternoon walk through old town Albuquerque. The Balloon Fiesta is coming up in a near term future blog. Stay tuned.

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Acid Reflux: Yamaha RD350 Battery Box

I’ve been putting miles on the 1974 RD350 in the last few months, almost doubling the 4100 miles that showed on the bike’s odometer when I first got it. As my confidence in the bike increases so do the miles racked up in a single ride. This increase in running time has led to a problem with the battery that was installed in the RD350.

The battery seemed to work okay; it held a charge and didn’t use too much electrolyte but the fill plugs located on top were seeping a bit of acid. The caps felt snug and the battery vent was not clogged yet after a long ride the acid-damp lay heavy on the battery and even started dripping down the sides. I sort of let it slide for a while. Riding the RD is too much fun and stopping the bike for maintenance seemed like a waste of good weather.

Now that it’s a bit cooler I tackled the battery situation. The acid had dripped down onto the swing arm and corroded the battery box along with the small coil spring that keeps the oil tank vent from kinking. My laziness always comes back to haunt me.

I took the battery box, along with the attached rectifier and voltage regulator out of the frame and washed everything down with a mix of baking soda and water. The affected paint fell off in large chunks. I dismantled the electrical components and soaked the battery box in Evap-Rust then wire brushed any loose paint.

It was a nippy week at The Ranch so painting the box in 50-degree weather was a challenge. I heated the rattle can and the battery box to within 2.8 degrees of each other (measured via a recently calibrated fingertip) then shot the box with primer and two coats of Krylon satin black. I used a brush to apply paint to the bare spots on the swing arm.

It all came out good enough and anyway, I’m riding this bike, not showing it. The electrical bits, being directly under the battery did not suffer any acid corrosion. I cleaned them up and reassembled the mess into the motorcycle.

Many older motorcycles do not regulate their voltage as precisely as you would like and my Yamaha RD350 is one of the many. With the headlights on and engine revving I measured 14/14.1 volts at the battery. This is ideal. With the headlights off 15 volts were going into the battery. 15 volts is a little too high for comfort but I decided that since I leave the headlights on all the time the original regulator would be okay.

My good buddy Deet told me about using sealed, AGM type, alarm-system/UPS batteries in old bikes. I have had one of them in Godzilla, the 1971 RT1-B for a couple years and it has been working great. These type batteries hold a charge much longer than flooded lead acid batteries. The new one I bought on Amazon has a high tolerance for high voltage; it can handle up to 15-volts charging. These AGM standby batteries can withstand constant trickle charging and long periods of inactivity, which describes vintage motorcycle riding to a tee. The small spade terminals on these batteries are not made for large current loads like an electric starter or lighting up the strip in Las Vegas but they can handle motorcycle lighting and ignition circuits without complaint.

At 4AH the new battery has a bit less capacity than the leaky old 5.5AH unit I took out but I think it will work okay. Close enough counts in hand grenades, horseshoes and motorcycle batteries.

The new battery is a skosh smaller than the old battery so I used some closed-cell packing foam to keep the thing from rattling around inside the battery box. The RD350 is once again ready to rumble. From my experience with the RT1-B, I’m not anticipating any problems with the RD350 but I’ll be sure to let ExhaustNotes readers know if I have any issues with the new AGM set up.

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The 2022 ExNotes Gift Guide

Most gift guides are hokey. Not this one. In keeping with our theme of shooting, motorcycles, and other interesting things, here are our recommended gifts and associated links. It’s good stuff. Purchase the things we recommend through the links we include here and you’ll ride faster, you’ll shoot straighter, you’ll weigh less, you’ll be better looking, and you’ll be one of the cool kids. (I took an advertising class and that’s the essence of what good advertising is supposed to do.) Without further ado (I have no idea what “ado” means, but if you say it during a wedding ceremony, you’re married), here you go.

Motorcycle Bungee Pack

Few things in our lives are as useful as a bungee cord, and it you want a nice gift for a motorcyclist, this Motorcycle Bungee Pack answers the mail. It includes an assortment of bungees and a cargo net, and it’s a sure thing whoever receives a gift like this will put it to good use.

A New BMW R 1250 GS

Well, sort of, although if any of our readers want to buy us a new BMW GS, that would be nice, too. Nope, what we’re referring to here are Maisto motorcycle models. They’re pretty cool, they’re high quality, and at approximately $20, they won’t break the bank. Maisto offers several other models, too, like the S1000RR you see at the top of this blog.

A Case of Mobil 1 Moto Oil

It doesn’t get any better than Mobil 1 4T synthetic oil for motorcycles. If you want to really impress someone, give them a case of Mobil 1 4T for their motorcycle. It’s only $79.00 and trust me on this, they will remember you every time they shift or blip the throttle.

Portable Jump Starter

We carried and used a portable jump starter on the Enfield Baja ride, and trust me, it was worth its weight in gold. There are several models available, and they start around $52. This Litake portable jump starter is small enough to carry on a motorcycle and it makes a great gift.

Lee Precision Reloading Gear

If you’re not reloading, your missing out on half the fun in the shooting sports. Making the decision to become a reloader can be a bit initimidating, but the major equipment manufacturers make it easy for anyone to start. If you want to start with a simple single-stage press, our advice is to go with Lee’s Challenger Kit for $229.

A single stage reloader is a good way to start, and the Lee Anniversary kit shown above is a good one. You can buy it directly from Lee or from Amazon.

If the person you are giving the reloading kit to (which can be you, by the way) wants to reload at higher rates, you might consider the Lee Classic Turret kit for $380:

You can buy the Lee Classic Turret kit directly from Lee or from Amazon.

With either kit, the person receiving the gift will need a set of dies specific to the cartridge to be reloaded. We think Lee Precision makes the the best dies at any price (these are $78.00).

You can buy the above dies directly from Lee, or you can purchase them from Amazon.

Cool Watches

There are three or four you might consider. We’ve recently written about Casio’s G-Shock GD400 series. These are reasonably priced, they are incredibly accurate, they offer a world-time quick change capability, and a bunch of other features (illuminated dial, stopwatch, countdown timer, and more). Casio offers these for both men (at $89.95) and women ($53.95). I wear a G-Shock and so does Susie.

If you want something more formal, our recommendation is to get an automatic watch. There’s something elegant about a selfwinding mechanical watch, and Orient is one of most exclusive brands out there at a very reasonable price. Two personal favorites are the Moonphase (from $274.95 to $374.95, depending on color) and the Mako dive watches (at $147.95). I wear an Orient rose gold Moonphase when I’m trying to impress Gresh, and it’s a classy timepiece.

Toolkits

We very recently posted about a Wohngeist toolkit retailing for $2,895 (we’re not advising buying it, unless you feel a need to flush money down the toilet). A far better choice is any of several toolkits available at much more reasonable prices, like this one for $49.95. These make great gifts, and they won’t break the bank.

Buck Knives

Give someone a Buck knife, and you’ll have a friend for life. That’s how long the Buck will last, too. Buck makes a bunch of different knives, you can have them customized, you can have them engraved, or you can buy one off the shelf, so to speak. My personal favorite is the Buck 110 folder (shown in the photo below), but any Buck knife makes a wonderful gift. Buck 110 folders start at around $60.

Trickle Me Elmo Battery Tenders

There are few things as useful to a motorcyclist than a Battery Tender. I’ve been using these for decades. A motorcycle with a topped-off battery runs better, and I’m coinvinced routinely plugging your bike into a Battery Tender extends the battery’s life. I regularly get between 4 and 6 years out of a motorcycle battery, and the Battery Tender is the reason why. These things are inexpensive ($39.95), and if they wear out, that would be news to me. I’ve been using mine for about 15 years and it’s still going strong.

Stop and Go Mini Compressors

Get a flat on your motorcycle out in the middle of nowhere and you’ll wish you had one of these, and so will all of your motorcycle friends. It happened to me more than a few times (on the Three Flags Rally, in China, and out in the boonies exploring the Mojave Desert). The Stop and Go Mini Compressor will pay for itself the next time you need to inflate a tire out there, and if you’re one of those folks who drops the air pressure when you see a dirt road, this will get you back up to street pressures quickly.

Our Motorcycle Books

Hey, what can I say. If you’re going to buy a motorcycle book, why not buy one I wrote? They’re inexpensive and folks say they’re pretty good. If you’re one of those folks tempted to wait for the movie instead of reading the book, don’t hold your breath. There were some preliminary discussions for a movie series, but when I suggested Leonardo di Caprio play me, the studio responded with Danny De Vito and talks broke down (so don’t wait for the movies).

Take a look at this selection of outstanding moto stories, pick the ones you’d like, and Mr. Bezos will have them in the mail to you muey pronto!

Haix Boots

The problem with motorcycle boots is they’re uncomfortable when you get off the motorcycle, especially if you have to walk anywhere. About 20 years ago I picked up a pair of Haix boots (a favorite of police, firemen, and other first responders) and I never look back. They are the only boots I wear when I ride a motorcycle. A pair of Haix boots lasts about 10 years, and they are extremely comfortable. They’re a bit more than most combat boots at $259.99, but they last a long time and the increase in comfort makes them well worth the price of admission.

Bianchi Belts

I bought my Bianchi belt years ago and I think it is one of the best purchases I ever made. I wear it any time I need to wear a belt unless I have to dress up for a deposition or a formal event. The Bianchi is just plain comfortable, it doesn’t wear out, and for its intended purpose (supporting a holster) it is superb. You’d be surprised how much of a difference a good belt makes if you’re carrying a firearm (unless you already have a Bianchi belt, in which case you wouldn’t be surprised at all). But you don’t need to carry a gun to appreciate this belt. Like I said, I wear mine all the time. The Bianchi belt retails on Amazon for $66.02 (why they add the $0.02 is beyond me), and it’s worth every penny (even those extra two pennies Bezos tacks on).

Batdorf and Bronson Coffee

Batdorf and Bronson coffee is the best coffee in the world. Yeah, that’s my opinion, but try it and you’ll agree. Buy a selection of Batdorf and Bronson coffee for a holiday gift and you’ll make a friend for life.

So there you have it: Our 2022 gift recommendations. And don’t forget:

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Water Security

As mentioned in a previous ExhaustNotes story titled “Guilt Trip,” our water well at the ranch has become unreliable. In order to quickly bring some stability to the situation we decided to install a storage tank and re-shuffle the way water is delivered to our shack.

After pouring a slab to support the new, 3000-gallon water tank we had the local Tank Guy deliver Big ‘Mo to the ranch. Big ‘Mo cost $2800 delivered to our door and that’s a bit expensive but it seems like everything costs more since the Covid crisis eased up. Home Depot has a 2500-gallon tank that is slightly lighter construction for $2300 plus $80 delivery plus tax so the per gallon price is comparable. Buying local means the Tank Guy will spend his money locally. Anyway, I don’t like the way our local Home Depot stores their tank inventory. They put the tanks on their sides instead of the bottom. This makes it easier to move the tanks with a forklift but I suspect it does the tank no good having all the weight where it’s not designed to go.

The Tank Guy stores his tanks upright, just north of Tularosa in a big field across from the railroad overpass. Our tank showed up securely strapped to a trailer…on its side. But only for the time it took to arrive at the ranch. These tanks look huge but they are rotocast plastic and are not that heavy. The 3000-gallon tank weighs 500 pounds. It took the Tank Guy, the Tank Guy’s wife and me to slide the tank up a ramp I handily screwed together earlier for pouring the tank slab.

I installed two ball valves in the bottom of the tank, one ¾-inch for the output and one ½-inch to fill the tank. Tank filling can be done three ways: by water delivery truck, gravity fed from the upper level shed storage tank, or by pumping well water into the tank. A jumble of shut-off valves can be juggled to pressure feed the house from the well, from Big ‘Mo via a centrifugal pump or by gravity from the upper level storage. I’m into redundancy when it comes to water.

If you live in areas that freeze you’ll want to add a pipe heater and insulate any exposed pipe. The black tank helps keep the water from freezing and when the sun comes out we rarely get days under 40 degrees so water freezing in the tank has not been an issue so far.

I took this re-plumbing opportunity to eliminate the water softener and reduce the size of the very old well pump expansion tank. The water softener periodically runs a flush cycle and being on a fixed water supply we can’t waste water like that. The bladder inside the big expansion tank became porous over the years and water had migrated to the dry side causing rust. Plus it was too damn big. I’m thinking it will make a great stand alone fireplace or smoker.

From Big ‘Mo water is piped through a mesh screen filter, a one-way check valve and into a centrifugal pump that provides 40psi of pressure to a large 5-micron filter and on to the house plumbing. The pump has its own small expansion tank that seems to keep a fairly steady flow of water to the fixtures. You can see the flow increase a bit when the pump cycles but nothing a rough, tough, couple of pioneers like CT and I can’t handle.

Since we’ve moved from hot, humid Florida to a colder climate I’ve learned that PVC plumbing is not ideal in freezing conditions. Going forward I’m trying to use PEX plumbing in all my projects and I’ve been happy with the results so far. PEX uses a more flexible pipe that is crimped onto brass PEX fittings with brass/copper-ish crimp rings. You’ll need a special PEX crimp tool to compress the rings onto the PEX fittings. Once crimped, you can spin PEX pipe on its brass fitting (within reason) without causing a leak. I haven’t had one PEX-related leak yet, even when tight working conditions result in a less than optimal crimp. I wish I could say the same for the PEX-to-threaded-pipe connections. One thing to keep in mind is that PEX pipe is not UV resistant so cover any pipes that will see sunlight.

Like most plumbing systems PEX has to be cut and pipes replaced if you need to change anything. You’ll need a PEX removal tool if you want to reuse the brass PEX fittings and why wouldn’t you want to reuse them? The ability to reuse PEX fittings is a big deal. When is the last time you were able to reuse a glued PVC fitting or soldered copper fitting? The removal tool cuts the crimp ring without cutting into the PEX barb. Once the ring is out of the way you can crimp V-shaped depressions around the bit of PEX stuck on the barb. Crimping the Vee’s causes the PEX pipe circumference to expand and the pipe will slide right of the barb without causing undue stress.

It’s a bad feeling when your well runs dry. All of a sudden your shack becomes unlivable. But by building in a little extra infrastructure we have water security even if it means buying water from our local water delivery service. And I have plans on the table for catching much more rain during the next monsoon season that will nearly eliminate our reliance on bought water.

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Tools Do Not A Carpenter Make

I spotted the tool kit you see above in a Wall Street Journal list of suggested gifts. It’s made by an outfit in Switzerland and the price (as quoted by the Wall Street Journal) is an astonishing $2,850. Yes, you read that right: $2,850. Thinking it had to be a mistake (even Snap-On tools are not that expensive), I got on the Internet. Yep. $2,850. I’m thinking that kit above is maybe $50 worth of tools. So I looked around a little and saw the same Wohngeist tool kit from another retailer for $3,000. And then another for $2,800. I imagine the people who picked it up for $2,800 felt they scored quite the bargain.

Want another shocker? All three of the online retailers, quoting the prices you see above, are sold out. Gresh and Huber, we are in the wrong business.

Here’s another Wohngeist tool kit for those of you who don’t want to spend $2,895. This one is only $1,895. Like my people say: Such a deal!

If you’re thinking of something more down to earth, you can always pick up a basic tool kit from Amazon. This one was $49. It looks pretty good to me and it’s more in line with what I’m used to spending. I’m an Amazon kind of guy.

I think the Amazon version has more screwdrivers and it has a ratchet and sockets. The Wohngeist kit does not. What were you expecting for $2,895? I know, I know, the Amazon kit doesn’t have that nifty fold-out ruler. But I already own a tape measure. So I’m covered.

Not content with that find, I checked to see if Amazon had a motorcycle tool kit. Here’s one that looks like it came right out of my 1965 Honda Super 90, and it’s only $12.95.

I don’t still have the Super 90, but I do still have the tools. Somewhere.

We’ve written other blogs about motorcycle tool kits. This one explains my approach for identifying and carrying the tools I may need. It contains links to Gresh’s and Huber’s blogs on the same topic, too.

Watch for our 2022 Christmas, Hanukkah, and Festivus gift guide. It’s coming up soon.

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The Ride

“I am slowly dying every day I am here”

It was April 2017 and that was the thought that kept going through my head. I was living in Seattle and it was one of the grayest winters in Pacific Northwest history. According to meteorological scientists, there had been only thirty hours of sunlight from October to May. I was working remotely; a strange, novel existence that in a young and lighter life was referred to as telecommuting. To work remotely is to live semidetached from the rest of society. At times, it feels as though you are physically invisible to the world; literally, a digital personality. Of course, this was before the global pandemic came in and made remote work the new normal for those of us fortunate enough to have a job. I had begun losing motivation in my work and in most other aspects of life and it wasn’t just the weather. Maybe it was the fact that I wore the same ratty Boston University hoodie every day that winter and ate Shin Ramen for two of my three meals a day. Maybe it was that the people I saw in the streets and places I frequented seemed to be as isolated and disconnected as I was feeling at the time.

Looking back on those gray, empty, Seattle days I realize now that the need for freedom and openness was what finally forced me to make such a drastic change. I needed a hard reset of my current mindset and environment, one that would revolve around my passion for riding motorcycles. I wanted to take the check-mated chess game that had become my life and forearm-swipe the whole thing across the room, kind of like the Jack Nicholson diner scene in Five Easy Pieces.

So that is exactly what I decided to do.

New game

I decided I was going to put the Jet City in my rearview mirror and travel the country on my Ducati Monster M1100. This torquey little machine had a dry clutch with a stiff pull, which made a beautiful “clack clack clack” sound that reminded me of a WWII P-51 Mustang heading into a dog flight alone, against a squadron of Messerschmidts. I loved my Monster, and we had seven good years together feeling the wind in our hair and the angry vibes of the 1100 CC v-twin engine on two-lane roads all over this amazing country. I had even camped off this sleek little machine during a memorable ride down the coast to San Francisco. To me the Ducati Monster M1100 is everything that a motorcycle should be. Nothing extra, and nothing less. In fact, the only thing that bike wasn’t fit for was the journey I was about to take.

The Plan

The high-level plan was to head east on I-90, blaze through E-WA and Idaho in one go, not stopping until I hit the unadulterated freedom of open space called Montana. I would camp every chance I could in the open-air majesty of perhaps our greatest treasure; America’s National Forests. I planned to visit National Parks, and stop to see every UFO landing site and giant ball of string that caught my eye. Most importantly, I would make sure that my thirst for the road on a fossil fuel burning two-wheeler was quenched on a daily basis. I would live in Airbnb’s during the week, feeding my pencil thin bank account by logging in to my nine to five via laptop as an IT project manager. Although I did fine at my job, I had this unique perspective that work was a vehicle, a vehicle that when pointed in the right direction and driven with the right intent could be used to feed my hunger for riding, camping, and living life in a way that I would not regret when my last days arrived. Monday through Friday I would continue to persevere in my career. Weekends, however, would be all mine and I intended to max each one out with the whistle of speed in my ears and a thick coating of dead insects on my face-shield.

Seattle

The weather finally broke in May. I greeted the first rays of sun with squinted eyes, dangerously low vitamin D levels and steaming cup of Starbucks, which would be my last for a while. I loaded the Ducati with all my gear and took a step back to look things over. The packing list was dangerously minimal, yet the bike looked like something off of Sanford and Son. My gear was just too much for the journey I had planned on the Ducati.

I had to make a difficult decision, one that I had been stewing on for years, in fact. Some might call it an up-grade, some might call it the death of romance. Some might call it the end of the sexy and lyrical object worship and variable reliability that is the result of Italian design and engineering. That day… that fateful day, I traded my Ducati Monster in for a BMW GS1200.

Coming out of the closet as an adventure rider

I now had the perfect bike for the adventure and the lifestyle I was about to launch into. I had no idea it would lead to an all-consuming life obsession that would take me some 50,000 plus miles down every type of road imaginable on one excursion after another with no end in sight. When I departed Seattle on that first sunny day in May I remember thinking “I’ll just cruise out to Montana tomorrow and get to know my new machine.” My plan was light on detail and I told myself I’d deal with that, well, tomorrow. Besides, spring was in the air and I had never spent more than a few days in Montana, and that was years earlier. I had been headed in the opposite direction then, and running on Red Bull and fumes, hunched over the Ducati’s bars on a laser-focused run down the entire length of I-90 from Fenway Park in Boston all the way to Seattle’s Safeco Field.

That first day riding east was epic. As I left Seattle, I remembered the scene at the beginning of Easy Rider where Peter Fonda tossed his watch onto the desert sand as they kicked started their Vaughs and Hardy chops and blazed out eastward on their own adventure towards Mardi Gras. The day couldn’t have tasted better. The smell of Spring was thick in the cool morning air. The sky opened up as if to reassure me I had made the right choice and would be there to support and guide me in this liberating endeavor. The enormous evergreens of the coast became steadily shorter, fewer and far between until they disappeared and were replaced by tumbling sage and the open high desert of eastern Washington.

I don’t know how fast I was going but there was still a light mist coming off the Columbia as I cut through a vicious cross wind on the bridge at Vantage. The traffic thinned out with every mile as the quiet machine practically rode itself eastbound. Spokane, Coer’D’Alene, Post Falls, Idaho… Well hello Montana! I rolled into Whitefish and stopped for my first full meal since I had left out. It wasn’t anything spectacular; a small brewery on the outskirts of town. I could have eaten a gas-station bologna sandwich on stale bread and been just as happy. I had made that leap and had landed squarely outside the hamster wheel, looking in. It felt like coming home.

Montana is a rider’s paradise. With a rough plan of spending 2 weeks in Whitefish I would start by riding a road called Going to the Sun, which is a rare and beautiful collection of breathtaking views that you take in between sweeping switchback curves on good asphalt. The experience leaves you feeling unstoppable while the occasional grizzly bear sighting reassures you that your place in the food chain is not always at the top.

Going to the Sun was a life-changing road on a bike that would prove life-changing for me as well. The GS was silent compared to the Ducati. It had roll on power for the slow steady grades of the continental divide. I sat up high and took in the wildflowers of spring and the smells of Ponderosa and Lodgepole pine as I changed the GS’s road setting to sport mode, opened up the throttle and consumed mile after mile of sun-baked highway.

At some point in mid-June, I lit out of Whitefish on Forest Service roads, starting to get a feel for what the GS and I were capable of together. Hunter S. Thompson famously said, ‘The edge; the only ones who really know where it is, are the ones who have gone over.’ There were several times on that ride when I had to dust myself off and pick up all 650 pounds of fully loaded GS before pointing her east and rolling it on. A sort of cadence developed on those sandy mountain roads; drop the bike, swear a lot, cut the engine, swear some more, then pick her up, swear a bit more, onward and upward. It was all part of a steep learning curve that comes with all things worth doing, and I learned that lesson one dropped twenty thousand dollar German motorcycle at a time until the new car smell was all but washed off of her.

I was falling fast in love with my new bike and Montana too, and soon after Whitefish I made the decision to relocate to Missoula where I began taking weekend trips out to experience some of America’s most drooled over stretches of two-lane blacktop. One of those American roads I will never forget is the Beartooth Highway, which stretches between Red Lodge and the Northeast Entrance to Yellowstone. If we set foot on Mars in my lifetime, I may just volunteer to go. Until that happens I’ll have the Beartooth Highway; A pristine lunar landscape that is literally without end, show-casing snow-capped peaks that go on forever to your left, right and center. The road going up Beartooth Pass is a chain of perfect hair-pin switchbacks so parabolically consistent that after a few awkward peg-scrapers I was able to lean the big GS in with a confidence reminiscent of my old Ducati. I experienced seventy-odd miles of rider’s paradise on this first outing from my new Missoula basecamp and finished the day dropping into Yellowstone, which, when it’s not choked off with Winnebagos and European tourists in black socks, is truly one of the seven wonders I have personally experienced on two wheels. You can camp on a pristine prairie and share the view with the bison who will roam freely around you as you grill up a rib-eye from one of their close cousins and enjoy a well-earned adult beverage in a tall can. This riding experience was something patently American; the stuff of childhood cowboy dreams and one I will never forget.

I hit Montana running, never planning more than twp weeks in advance and I never really stopped. The ride has been something enviable to those that understand. I am currently writing this sitting in front of a warm fire on this chilly June day in Lake City Colorado with the GS unloaded and parked where I can keep an eye on her. I will spend a few more weeks tearing up the asphalt and dirt in this geographically diverse state before setting sites on my next challenge.

I try to avoid the news, but it’s easy to see the world is spinning faster than ever these days. People seem to be polarizing more and more to where common ground is hard to find. In this unstable operating environment, you need to find a constant; a baseline; a solid rock that you can stand on, mentally and spiritually. Call it a ground-wire. For me, that constant is riding a motorcycle and the life that comes with it. Using the power of the ride to find common ground with people is one of the most magical talents I have learned to develop

So, as I continue on my ride, I am reminded that balance on two wheels requires constant motion. And like my last listless, restless winter in Seattle, there can be great tension in standing still. I think of the balance sometimes when I am polishing off a tall can, watching the crackling campfire reflect off the GS’s exhaust system, always parked close where I can keep an eye on her – after all, we are alone in a wild place. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that’s what keeps us together.

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A New G-Shock Sale Alert

I follow a few motorcycle forums and one of them has a watch thread. One of the guys who posted recently alerted me to a Casio GD400 G-Shock watch in a new color scheme. Without intending to, I guess I became a G-Shock collector. My orange and turquoise GD400 conked out on a Baja trip (my fault, not the watch’s), and when I tried to buy another one, I was g-shocked (pardon the pun) by four facts: The orange and turquoise color was no longer available, prices on the orange and turquoise model were up about 400% on the secondary market, you couldn’t get replacement parts for that color, and G-Shock collecting/investing is a real thing.

My first Casio G-Shock watch. I still have it.

I liked the watch, though, and when I was in a watch shop on the east coast, I saw a new color theme Casio had released. I like the watch, so for me it was a no-brainer. I picked up a replacement in OD green and black. I’m wearing it right now.

My daily wear Casio GD400 G-Schock watch.

I took the inability to get replacement parts on the orange and turquoise model as a challenge, and I overcame it. My orange and turquoise model is digitally and happily tick tocking away on a shelf in my office.

Anyway, to circle back to the topic of this blog, Casio just introduced this new color scheme in black and gold, and I like it. It’s the one you see at the top of this blog. The deal is this: The new Casio is available now for $69.99, which is a good price. Casio is taking pre-orders on their website, and they will start shipping on 25 November. My order is in.

Want to see other Casio watches? Take a look at these G-Shock watches on Amazon.

More watch reviews (including several Casio watches and more) are here.

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New Mexico Museum of Space History

Alamogordo is a cool town, and on a recent visit there Joe Gresh, Susie,and I took in three of its attractions: The White Sands Missile Range, White Sands National Park, and the New Mexico Museum of Space History. This blog is on the New Mexico Museum of Space History, a five-story tall structure that is arranged in a spiral (kind of like the Guggenheim in New York City). Joe, as the Ambassador of Alamogordo, suggested riding the elevator to the top and then walking down the spiraling hallways to take it all in, which is what we did.

As museums go, this is a good one. There were a lot of cool things to see, including a mockup of the space shuttle control panel (that’s Joe piloting the Shuttle in the photo above). Some of the other cool things are shown in the photos below.

Sputnik, the Russian satellite that initiated the space race.

The Ham capsule. Ham was the first chimp launhed into space. He’s buried on the Museum grounds.

Paying homage to perhaps one of the greated sci-fi series ever, Star Trek.

There’s a small missile park outside the Museum building. The vehicle in the foreground is a rocket sled, used in early development efforts.

If you ever find yourself in Alamogordo, the New Mexico Museum of Space History is worth a visit.

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The White Sands Missile Range

I first visited White Sands Missile Range in the mid-1970s when I was in the Army stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas. I visited two places that day 50 years ago: The White Sands Missile Range, and White Sands National Park. I did the same most recently (i.e., hitting both spots on the same day) with Joe Gresh and Susie. We recently posted about White Sands National Park. Today, the focus is on the WSMR Missile Park, a display of military equipment just inside the White Sands Missile Range main gate.

WSMR is a place with history. It doesn’t go back that far…it was created in July 1945, right at the end of World War II, when we grabbed all those Nazis for our space program (the Russians were doing the same). A lot of them were sent to White Sands, along with a hundred German V2 rockets. We cut our space program teeth on them, launching two thirds of our V2 stash and studying the rest before we started building and testing American versions. Our first atomic bomb was tested on the northern edge of White Sands Missile Range. When I was based at nearby Fort Bliss to the south, we heard stories about missiles launched from White Sands that went a bit wide of their mark and landed in Mexico (as in Old Mexico, not New Mexico). Like I said, there’s a lot of history here.

It used to be that you could just drive onto White Sands Missile Range and visit the missile park. In those days, they had a German V2 on display along with perhaps a dozen or so other US missiles. But that was then, and thanks to Osama Bin Laden, this is now. Now, you have to park outside the main gate, show ID to the minders, fill out a form saying you’re not evil, and get permission to walk onto the base. From the main gate, it’s maybe a couple hundred yards to get to the missile park. The indoor stuff (including that old V2) was locked up when we visited, so all we could see was the stuff on display outside. But that was good enough, at least until the skies opened up and the rains came down.

The photo ops were fantastic…military missiles, gun systems, and aircraft against the bright blue New Mexico sky, with a bit of cloud cover to soften the shadows. We had a blast. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Joe Gresh, asking what would happen if he pushed that button.

The Fat Man (I am referring to the atomic bomb). Gresh has been dieting, and doing pretty well at it.

The mulitple launch rocket system, or MLRS.

There are all kinds of cool missiles on display here. It’s free, too. We used to build plastic models of these things when I was a kid.

A US Navy 5-inch gun. Gresh climbed inside the turret when it started to rain.

A Nike Hercules anti-aircraft missile, successor to the Nike Ajax. The Nike Hercules could carry a nuke. Although designed as an anti-aircraft weapon, the nuclear-armed Hercules could be used against ground as well as airborne targets. Don’t ask me how I know.

When it started to rain, Susie and I jumped beneath the wing of an F-4 Phantom.

We only stayed about an hour at the White Sands Missile Range, our visit shortened by the rain and the fact that the indoor displays were closed. But that’s okay. We’ll hit this place again on the next visit to New Mexico.

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