Ride Report - America pt. 1

6 am Friday morning, I wake up super excited and ready to get on the road- the first day of our cross country trip, I had been working overtime, dialing in my bike, spending quality time with my family, and of course completing a ton of construction on my house before I departed.

Jake and I had spent the last year and a half planning and preparing for the trip together. The destination would be The Congregation Motorcycle show in Charlotte, NC, but to us it was just a good excuse to make the ride, explore new parts of America, and see old friends from the Southern US.

The previous week, Jake and I had done detailed work on our bikes to make sure they were up for the trip. We had both completed the Belden trip the previous month without issue, which gave us a good sense that our bikes were healthy. We had been working on a list of everything we needed to bring for the trip, we updated it together and shared it, every little thing from ignition components, to wiring, kicker gear, wheel bearings, tubes for all of our different size tires, to random nuts and bolts. Our goal was to not have to rely on anyone else to bail us out of a breakdown, we at least wanted to not get stranded, always be able to fix our shit and make it to the next place.

A few nights before, Jake had completely torn down his bike to the frame and deraked it haha. We painted it together late into the night. He knew mechanically everything wads good, and when he assembled it right before our departure he took the time to locktight and double nut everything. The previous week I had also replaced my front tire, and when doing so I realized one of my C-rings that holds my fork damper in the tube had blown up, the whole tub fell out when I took of the wheel. I rebuilt the front end, threw on 2+ over tubes for a little more clearance, and got it back together. I’ve come to appreciate the ongoing process of keeping these bikes maintained and running. it never ends, things are never going to be perfect- so when we left that first day I basically had to tell myself “I’ve done everything I can, to the best of my ability. Whatever happens on this trip, I will figure it out”. Thats the mentality we both shared going into this, never give up, we can handle anything, and enjoy every moment.

Jake texts me around 7:30, he’s welding a mount for a an extra gas can real quick, then he’d meet me at my house to leave. My bike was packed up and ready- I pulled it outside and drank some coffee. I brought two pairs of pants, and two shirts. 5 pairs of underwear and socks. Everything else was either bike parts or camping gear. We both brought a tarp to sleep on if it was wet, a good sleeping bag, no tents- to me a tent is unneccessary and takes up alot of space.

If I’m being honest I was kinda anxious and nervous about leaving, I knew I’d have fun, but it felt like a huge undertaking, and I was second guessing if my bike would make it.

Jake shows up and we kick are bikes in front of my house, I kiss my wife and son. Here we fuckin go- we’re off.

Its late September in California, probably the best conditions we could ask for, perfect temperature and beautiful scenery. We were heading up I80 on the way to Reno, NV where we would split off onto HWY 50- The Loneliest Highway in America, as it was coined in LIFE magazine, because it is some of the most desolate land in the continental United States.

The first gas stop outside of Truckee was ridiculous, Jake ran out of gas on the freeway at like 60 miles, when I got to the gas station to fill up I realized my gas tank was leaking- not a great start ha. My heart kinda sank and I said to myself “Fuck, can I actually do this? Am I out of my league thinking I can pull this off?”

I stayed positive, after all, I was getting to do my favorite thing on earth for two weeks, which is to ride all fucking day, sleep, then wake up and do it again. I let go of all expectations, tried to shut my brain off, kicked my bike over and rode back to Jake a few exits back.

Jake had put some gas in and left for the gas station, when I looped around I never saw him, but he was there when I got back. We headed through Reno together, riding most of the time side by side. The first half of the day we were kinda just shaking out the jitters really, listening closely to our bikes, watching for things vibrating loose, checking our packs to make sure they were secured. It wasnt till we got to through Fallon and left civilization that I started to feel more relaxed. We got gas and ate Taco Bell in Fallon, drank a beer, I bought a pack of cigs after not smoking for the last 8 years, but I just love the pace of a long trip, and a beer and cig at a gas station is so relaxing, its definitely a ritual, sit on the ground, check out the map to plan the next stop, inspect your bike, etc.

After we got out of town and onto HWY 50 East, shit opened up into nothingness in all directions. This area has not changed in 100 years, there is nothing, no cell reception, only a couple towns (Dayton, Ely) until you get all the way to Utah. We had each brought a shit ton on extra gas, we just didnt want to get stranded, everything we had read about this route made it seem way more difficult then it actually was. I mean, if you weren’t prepared you would definitely be fucked haha, but we had everything we could need and we really enjoyed this part of the ride. Probably some of the coolest scenery in America, like old western era shit, gold and silver rush towns, ghost towns, it was legit like Easyrider when Billy and Wyatt ride through the desert in the beginning.

We were buzzing so hard, every time I would look at Jake we’d throw up our hands and be like WTF! THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!!! We’d crest a hill and look down at a straight away surrounded by desert mountains on both sides, I always thought to myself, that doesn’t look that far, Ill be down this stretch in 5 minutes- 30 minutes later and you still aren’t at the end- everything is massive, the road is empty, ride as fast or as slow as you want, no cell phone beeping at you, just unfiltered traveling on an old chopper.

Early afternoon, we stop at a dilapidated wood building with old gas pumps and a bar to fuel up and grab a drink. The bikes had been running really good all day, Jake was fighting a little fuel delivery issue, and still dialing in his magneto, but for the most part we were running smooth. We ordered shots of Jack Daniels and beers, and sat out on the wrap around porch, talking to old timers going in and out.

Since this was the first day our pace was a little slower, we were just getting into the swing of things, testing how long we would go before filling up, how fast we would ride for time efficiency and to keep the bikes from vibrating too hard, on a long haul we were more concerned with staying consistent, riding together, and being able to soak in the environment. My routing called for us to make it all the way to Delta, Utah that night, it was 615 miles. But after drinking beers at every gas station and a few roadside fixes, it was clear we would not make it there that night.

Late afternoon we wanted to get to the bottom of Jake’s strange fuel starvation-like symptoms, we pulled off onto the dirt shoulder and pulled out our tools. He decided to try a new condenser, which we each brought spares of. The area was super pretty, some bright yellow/green plants and bright red rock and sand, the sun was starting to get low and it was warm enough to take my shirt off and get some vitamin D.

His bike seemed to run better than before with the new condenser, he timed it multiple times correctly just to make sure- those Joe Hunt mags with the auto advance are pretty tricky, they have to be perfect for them to run, but once you find the sweet spot you get incredible consistent performance.

It was around 6:30pm when we stopped for gas, and figured we needed to devise a plan for the night. We decided to make it to Ely, NV and find a cheap casino/motel for the night. Once the sun set, it was dark as fuck out there, the road got windy and steep as we climbed into the little gambling town. At one point we had to pull off in the dark and change to clear glasses. We roll into Ely about 830 and hit Denny’s for burgers and beers. At this point we had no idea how far we had gone and we didnt really care, it felt like a pretty good day, if we do 12 hours every day we would eventually make it all the way across haha. We rode to a little motor inn called the Jailhouse Motel- apparently the building use to be the town’s jail.

We woke up about 730am and packed up our bikes, here was the moment of truth haha, how would these bikes start the next day at elevation and cold temperatures. We were really excited to ride, every day I remember waking up and being stoked to do it all over again, this is actually my favorite pace and my favorite way to ride. My bike started fairly easy, but Jake’s bike was giving him some hell, the mag can be hard to start if the conditions change, and conditions were going to be changing every day for the next 14 days lol. We retimed it again, and inspected everything, we both agreed it had to be something simple like fuel delivery or plugs maybe. I think that morning we ended up throwing some gas down the carb. He eventually got it to start around 830 and we were off. The Utah border was close, and we were stoked to get into a new state and see some different rocks. If you pay attention when you travel you can actually realize why the states borders are where they are, the landscape changes pretty drastically when you cross the border, the colors are different, the types of rocks and shit, it kinda makes the whole US make sense when you see it first hand.

We stopped for gas right at the NV UT border, totally desolate. As we left my bike started missfiring under load. It was still morning so we had alot of cushion for mechanical shit to happen and still be able to put in a good day. When we were on the side of the road while i was getting out my tools, a nice dude on a BMW pulls up and asks if we need help. We said no thank you we’ve got it covered, and as he rode off, Jake joked about asking him “You wouldn’t happen to have a set of point on ya, would ya”. haha I had the parts and threw in a new condenser and that solved the problem.

Utah was insane, probably one of the best parts of the trip on HWY 50. We had to jump on I15 for a bit, and that sucked, the speed limit is posted at 80 mph, and the big rigs go faster than that ha. We were really jammin with the flow of traffic but trying to be easy on the bikes cause we still had so far to go. We stopped for breakfast in a little town and were amazed at the prices of the food. Full breakfast for $8.99- we were happy to be far away from California for a bit.

At 1pm riding through the bright white salt of central UT, we pulled off cause Jake ran outta gas. It was pretty amazing, you could just stand in the middle of the road, we were really “out there”. The spans between gas stops were actually longer through this part of Utah than they were on the Loneliest Highway in NV. We said to each other that its even Lonelier in UT. Since this was the second day and we were feelin it, we started just seeing how far we could go before Jake ran outta gas with his 1.8 gallon tank. We had the gas anyway, so fuck it- we’d ride till he ran out, fill up on the side of the road, then do another tanks worth.

At 6pm we stopped at a rad overlook and hiked down to the edge, we wanted to see some of the sights and really experience the ride, we knew we could ride as late into the night as we needed to.

Once the sun set, and it was dark we really picked up the pace, we were ripping side by side on HWY 50, only stopping for gas, we both talked about it and were feeling great and wanted to ride all the way into Colorado that night. Our only concern was deer, which we watched out for like hawks, because that shit can kill you. We stop at this weird ass gas station that was decorated in an Alien theme, we snapped some pics and filled up.

When we crossed the border into Colorado we got a huge burst of energy, the previous night at dinner we said that if we can wake up in CO on the third morning that we would be in good shape, basically half way there. We pulled into a little town just outside of Grand Junction, immediately grabbed tall cans and sat outside on the ground relaxing. it was like 10:30pm and I think we both drank a couple tall cans and ate some gas station food, before we started figuring out where we would sleep. We rode around behind the parking lot where the big rigs are, down some nearby streets, looking for anywhere that had soft grass and we wouldn’t be out in the open.

On the map, we saw there was a river near by, we went down this rode together on our bikes and discovered it was actually a campground. Everything was closed for the night so we rode right through the gates. We pulled up to the side of a camp site, kinda on a manicured walkway, parked on the grass and got out our tarps and sleeping bags.

The next morning, Jake and I both woke up soaking wet. The morning dew was apparently very strong out in Colorado. Luckily with our tarps we were dry in our sleeping bags, when we rolled out we started to try and dry out our gear when the sun hit. It’s always funny when you roll into a campsite in the dark, you never really know where you are positioned or what it looks like. The night before when we set up, it felt way more lowkey. When we got up that morning, it was buzzing with families and Rvs, we were right in the middle of a walkway in the middle of the park.

We wanted to get outta there before a park ranger said something to us, possibly giving us a ticket or at minimum making us pay for our stay. Everyone was chill actually, the rangers drove right past us, but of course, a concerned middle aged lady rolled up and started asking questions. It always astonishes me how people cannot mind their own business- if what you’re doing has no impact on them whatsoever. We were respectful.

Jake and I decided we needed to get outta this family friendly park cause we definitely looked out of place, like a few homeless crackheads who wandered into the park after their NA meeting.

Time to kick the bikes in front of dozens of onlookers who want us out haha. This should go fine.

My bike starts and I ride straight out to get some coffee at McDonalds. Jake isn’t so lucky.

I thought maybe if I leave it will start easier, weird chopper superstition but sometimes it works. I hung out for a bit down the street drinking my coffee before I head back to see whats up. The bike wasn’t making any sound at all, nothing. We were both stumped because yesterday he had ridden 430 miles at 75 mph all day and it was starting fine.

We were at pretty high elevation, 4,600’, it was cold, and everything was wet- a recipe that can make a mag start hard. We took everything apart, inspected the mag, retimed, tried to dry it out with the cap off, nothing seemed to work. Jake started thinking again about the fuel delivery symptoms he was having, could it be that simple. Jake took the carb completely apart- then he realized his petcock wasn’t flowing. I rode to the next town and grabbed fresh plugs and a straight 1/4 npt fitting with no valve. This will do ha.

He popped the petcock in, and to both our surprise the bike fired right up! Hell yes, I love it when its simple, always start with the basic shit.

Alright fuck yes, its about noon, it warmed up and the scenery was gonna be fuckin beautiful today. This was a leg of the trip we were both looking forward to, the mountains of Colorado, but we were getting a late start, and the whole day was going to be chugging over gnarly mountain passes, with Loveland pass weighing in at 12,000’ elevation- how would our 50 year old carburetors run? We shall see.

Highway 70 is pretty curvy through the string of resort towns, but it is pretty fast paced and the road is paved very well- Colorado spends a shitload of money to maintain this area of the state- everything felt really ritzy and high end, because this is where all their tourism is, Vail, Breckenridge, etc. We were riding right through it.

After getting a later start we both decided we didn’t care about doing too big of a day, we wanted to drink beers at every gas station, get dinner, and enjoy the scenery. When we got up to Vail, the traffic was backed up so bad, bumper to bumper. We knew it was probably going to be like that until we got all the way down the hill and past Denver.

Near Breckenridge we stopped for dinner, prices were astronomical, but we wanted to burn some time and wait for traffic to die own. We ordered Micheladas and tacos and checked in with out ladies. It had started raining a bit and it got pretty cold, so when we left we were bundled up in all our shit and rerady for some hard riding all the way through Denver.

I had a great buzz going and was in the nice little mindset where I dont give a fuck what kinda conditions I’m in or how much traffic there is- I was just happy to be here, out on the road doing my favorite thing.

We split lanes in bumper to bumper traffic, in the dark, in the rain, all the way into Denver. It was actually pretty brutal and dangerous, but when you’re in it, you just laugh about it, cause it’s all out of your control, the only option is to slam a beer and keep going with a good attitude. Over Loveland pass at 12,000 feet, our bikes barely ran up the hill, it was ridiculous, we chugged along in the slowlane, no power at all haha. And I have my carb with a 68 main, which is on the leaner side.

We pulled off to piss on the side of the freeway, and both exclaimed to each other that “this isn’t that bad!” We were both pleasantly surprised how nice all the motorists were in Colorado, every car moved over for us while splitting. Jake and I were conscious the whole trip about being respectful wherever we traveled, we waved at cars as we split traffic, gave peace signs, and it was reciprocated- give respect to get respect, we wanted to show that motorcyclists with Cali plates weren’t ALL entitled assholes.

When you get to the final summit and start the decent into Denver shit gets absolutely gnarly. Every car and big rig immediately sped up to 90 miles an hour rallying to pass each other- all righteously pissed off that they had just spent the last 2 hours sitting in traffic. The road conditions went to shit- Colorado does not care or maintain anything east of the resort towns- the road felt like a road in Mexico, huge potholes, cracks, uneven lanes, lane markers fucked up, construction zones everywhere. It was hell on a bike, every bump I hit rattled my whole fucking body and gear, I said to myself “if my tire blows Im dead”- cars were driving so fast and it was super dark.

We stopped in Denver for gas, my adrenaline was pumping, I was really happy to be out of the mountains and was looking forward to flat ground and no traffic. I smoked a cig and drank a Starbucks double shot, trying to keep my energy level up because we were trying to get into Kansas tonight.

As soon as we got through downtown on the freeway, while riding side by side with Jake my engine makes a terrible gurgling sound and dies, I was like wtf? We pulled off to the side of the road as far as we could so we didn’t get sideswiped, My front exhaust pipe had fallen off haha. Not bad really, that was the first thing that had vibrated loose on my bike and we were already almost through Colorado! The threads were pretty weak inside the manifold but I had some pumber’s tape that would get it to bite good enough to keep going. Miraculously, the exhaust bolt stayed in the pipe with the gasket, so I didn’t even need to use my spare.

We keep pushing forward, Jakes bike was running great all day. Now the hurdle was being tired. We both kinda crashed from our adrenaline, beer, and caffein high all day. The scenery was empty and dark in every direction now, it feels way more like middle America once you get out of Denver. Small farming towns, minimal services, mainly blue collar towns. We started to get really worried about deer, the exit we stopped at to get gas was called “Deer Trail” haha. We were both so tired and visibility was really bad with our shitty chopper headlights, and it was 11pm and we needed rest.

We made the call to stop in Limon, CO for the night, and try and get a big day in tomorrow- riding all the way through Kansas in 1 day.

We pull into the small town of Limon, find the cheapest motel at the truck stop. Its midnight, we take our gear off, chain up our bikes. We slept good that night, it had been a pretty eventful day. We had rolled out of our sleeping bags around 630 that morning, and had been riding, wrenching, choppering, drinking until midnight that night. 17.5 hours on the road, and we only clocked about 330 miles- some days be like that haha but we loved every second of it. This is what we came for.