Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Motorcycle Trips


I'm almost recovered from my 1,000-mile ride up North, in time for my trip tomorrow to Pittsburgh and Detroit, a 2,000-mile journey. Let me make an observation.

There's no such thing as a bad motorcycle trip. By definition, you're out riding your motorcycle which is inherently joyful. Plus, long trips are an adventure. They can, however, be physically challenging. Extremely so.

My trip last weekend was grueling. It was the worst I've ever experienced. I probably came close to dying.

The problem was the cold. After I got north of Albany, the temperature dropped into the 30's. By itself, that's tolerable but only for short periods. Wind-chill makes temperature on a motorcycle feel 15-20 degrees colder. So riding in the 30's is hard on your body. You can stand it for about a half-hour, after which the temperature of your core lowers making you unbearably cold. There's no amount of gear that will help you then.

What I misunderstood was the terrain I'd be travelling in. On Long Island, you can't go 20 feet without seeing a Dunkin Donuts. DD's serve as warming stations for bikers. Sure, we'll buy coffee but it's the warmth we crave, to return our bodies to normal.

I knew I'd be facing 30-degree temperatures during the second half of my journey up but I was mistaken about having places to recover from the cold. It is remote, rural country up there and there are no stores, DD's, gas stations or even towns for miles and miles. I endured the cold for a half-hour and started looking for relief. Nothing. An hour went by and my condition started to noticeably deteriorate. An hour-and-a-half and I was in real pain. No place at all to stop at and warm up. At two hours, my body started shaking uncontrollably. I mean shaking. My arms and legs were vibrating like a Harley at a red light. My muscles weren't responding to my brain's instructions. You operate a motorcycle using manual skills so that's dangerous.

I finally found a gas station with a coffee bar. I staggered in, looking bad. The cashier was visibly concerned: we small-talked and she didn't say it but I'm sure she was getting ready to call 911. I sat down and tried to warm up. My body was out-of-control. Everything was shaking violently. Ten, fifteen minutes went by and I was still not warm. I tried making a cup of tea but my hands wouldn't stay still; the hot water kept splashing out of the cup. I eventually carried a cup of tea awkwardly with both hands, spilling a third of it on the way.

A half-hour later, I was slightly better but still suffering. I called Aimee (at the destination) and we discussed my options. Of course, she suggested prudent things like staying put overnight but I hadn't ridden eight hours so far to give up then. I knew I was going to complete the journey -- but between my location and Aimee were two more hours, in the cold, with no towns or places in between for relief. I'd have to endure another two hours in that condition. We made plans and I set off in her direction.

Two more hours of unlit, rural roads with no stores or towns. Even worse, the roads were covered with sand and patches of ice. Those road-conditions can cause a motorcycle to lose traction and fall, so my attention was on high-alert. Running along the side of the roads were deep ditches, the kind which, if you fall into one, you know you're gonna break bones and destroy your bike.

As I watched it get darker and colder outside, I realized my only hope was to ride without taking any breaks for the remaining two hours. I summoned my will-power and dug deep into my reserve of inner strength. The struggle became a psychological one as much as physical -- the natural impulse to give up and die was growing every minute.

I made it. Aimee was standing outside the hotel waiting for me. We had a delightful dinner and conversation as my body slowly recovered from the ordeal.

Today, I have no regrets about my decision to complete the journey. It was a challenge and I overcome it. Perhaps the choice to face increasing pain and serious danger was foolhardy but that's who I am. My friends call me "dogged," which is a nice term for stubborn. I never give up on my goals. It's what makes me who I am.

Here's a picture of my motorcycle's seat when I woke up the next morning...


 
 
So, tomorrow I'm heading West. Do you go on adventures?

22 comments:

  1. Adventures can be fun, dangerous, and wonderful. I do love adventures. Have not done too many this year as of yet.

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  2. Great, terrifying story. I'm concerned for you (don't do something like this again!!) but at the same time, I totally understand it and your decision to keep going because I would have done the same. I'm glad you had a friend awaiting you. Be careful on your next journey!!

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    1. Thanks. I often find it impossible to justify my decisions to people because, on the surface, they sound reckless but in the moment they make perfect sense.

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  3. Eeeek. That sounds harrowing.

    I hope the trip back was better?

    I don't think you'd like skidooing then. They don't go as fast as a motorcycle, but they still go darn fast and you're out in the cold. REALLY cold. Like the outside temp is already -20 C and the wind makes it -35 C. Granted, you are geared up for snowmobiling with a snowsuit and snow gloves, and should you fall you fall into the snow...all much less scary than what you did.

    I don't skidoo anymore. Too damn cold for me.

    bisous
    Suzanne

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    1. I never voluntarily go into the cold and find Winter sports to be absurd. Give me a book and hot tea instead!

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  4. Oh my goodness Ally, that's really scary. I hope the return journey will be ok!!! I had no idea but I've been on a motorbike in the night for a long time (as a passenger) and I was freezing (even in Bali, a hot climate) so to think of you being really cold like that is scary!x

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  5. At least you arrived safe, long distances in a car can be dangerous so i admire your stubbornness and willingness to endure the toughest weather to get to your destination. As long as it was worth it :)

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  6. I am so glad you made it - that is so scary! Your doggedness reminds me of doing the marathon: the pain, the mental struggle, the wanting to stop and quit.

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  7. I'm so Glad to hear you recovered, but that was scary even to read and I Pray a return Journey isn't as grueling? I used to Love to Hike, but here in the Desert and as I'm aging I do find my endurance for long hikes in the heat has taxed me more than it used to so some trips I just should not make anymore due to potential risk factors I'm no longer willing to push the limits of ... but I find it hard to accept since my Love of hiking remains so strong and I hate that I just can't do what I used to be able to without issues. Dammit! *winks* God Bless... Dawn... The Bohemian

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  8. You are one dedicated biker - I hope the trip back was better. It doesn't take much, sometimes, to turn a situation bad. Be careful out there.

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  9. Oh my gosh! That sounds so scary. I'm really glad you're okay--that was definitely a close call. Here's hoping the trip to Pittsburgh and Detroit is much smoother!

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  10. Oh, man! You really are One Dogged Motorcyclist. That could be the name of your memoir, should you ever decide to write one ;)

    It's incredible that you made it that whole way, and it's a true testament to your spirit what with all the environmental hardships you face after a long stretch on the open road. I'm sure your friend must have been so relieved to see you arrive alive and in one (mostly) piece :)

    Be safe, my friend!

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  11. I wish I was as stubborn as you are as I am easily scared, lol. Have fun but please do take good care of yourself, my friend !

    Fashion and Cookies - fashion and beauty blog

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    1. I get scared, too, but push through the fear. Getting scared is our mind's natural response to danger; we can choose to do what's next.

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  12. An adventure like this must be so exciting and unforgetable! I would love to do something similar... or even by car through the US must be so much fun and such a great adventure!

    Xx
    Larissa
    cenestquedelachance.blogspot.de

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    1. There are plenty of adventures available here. Come on over and I'll show you some!

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  13. I'm glad you made it through. I think your meeting with Aimee will be that much more memorable that you went through the harrowing trip to see her.

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  14. Well written! I almost started shivering reading your post. I hate when I get that cold. Don't you have heated gear? I got a jacket and gloves for Christmas, but haven't tested them yet.


    Way to push through the pain. I'm glad you made it safely.

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    1. I do but don't use them; they don't do much. What helps most is a heated seat, which comes standard on my GTL. It's like sitting on a radiator. The warmth enters your body through your groin which is a central place for body-heat.

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  15. What a wonderfully well written account of your harrowing ordeal, Ally. I'm very sorry that you had to endure such extremely unpleasant conditions and am grateful that you weren't seriously injured or worse. Fingers firmly crossed that the rest of your rides this year will be worlds warmer.

    ♥ Jessica

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  16. Thanks for sharing. I have always been a fair weather rider however this year I am taking a 3 month adventure tour of the US. I will take your tale of endurance and use it to evaluate hardships I may experience on my trip.

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