An Olympic Trip

Tackle and I spotted a weekend that neither of had commitments on and planned a 2.5 day trip to the Olympic Peninsula. Perhaps planned is too strong a word. We picked out an end point and got some general ideas together, but we didn't do things like arrange hotels or figure out mileage or anything like that. We invited Hot Rod and Tab to come along, making it quite the diverse collection of bikes - me on Penny, Tackle on her "well-loved" 600cc Honda Hurricane, Hot Rod on her (extremely loud) 500cc Buell Blast and Tab on her 250cc Suzuki Marauder.

I had just gone to Victoria to present at a conference for two days - had flown via float plane (which was a new fun experience, especially sitting up with the pilot on the way back), parking Penny in an enclosure at the lot. It had been fun to arrive at the parking lot in my gear, strip out of it, and emerge fully decked out in my suit and heels - the valets couldn't figure out where I'd come from at first. So, I got off the plane, rode home, threw some stuff together for the trip and got out the door. We ended up leaving at about 5:30, crossed the border at Peace Arch (don't believe wait signs), and took the Chuckanut Drive route down to Whidby Island. I was leading, and missed the turn for the interesting way, so ended up on a road that could not have been any straighter. That was OK, though, 'cause I really, really had to go, and barely made it to the gas station without crashing.

Rode down Whidby as the sun set, getting a truly amazing view of sunset over islands and water as we crossed the second bridge. We just made the last ferry and almost got in trouble - I led us into the exit area and lined us up, without thinking that perhaps we'd need to pay before we got on - I guess I'd gotten used to European ferries like that where you pay on the ferry or there's someone walking around. Hot Rod made it back to the toll booth to pay before they had decided what to do with us, so it all worked out.

Got over to Port Townsend and tried to find a hotel. The cheap ones were full, and we almost went for a room at a generic place outside of town, but in the end, decided to explore further. By doing so, we found a really cool character hotel with a suite with a kitchen for the same price as the generic place. It was in the middle of town, which turned out to be a character-type place filled with old buildings. Asked the slowly garrulous hotel lady for restaurant info and were directed to a pub/restaurant (The Taphouse if I recall correctly) where the food was quite good, as was the local microbrewed beer. Tackle especially fell in love with the idea of getting her burger medium rare. Tackle and Tab then went to bed and Hot Rod and I explored the local scene.

As it turned out, the slowness of the hotel lady was quite normal for the town, as all the locals seemed to be missing a few synaptic connections, some more than others (one might suspect some recreational greenery). But the beer was good, and we had a good, if weird, time chatting, slowly, with the locals.

The next morning, after breakfast prepared by Tackle, we headed out on the road. At first I was leading, but then Tackle and Hot Rod got impatient and sped by me, so I sped up to keep up with them. We had fun zipping along the roads, and then through the buildup of Port Angeles. When we stopped to regroup, we saw the group of um, Harley riders, who we would keep remeeting the rest of the day - one of the women's beanie helmets proclaimed "Straddle the Leader". They were careful riders actually, and kept to quite a tight formation, and actually let us by and waved to us the rest of the times we saw them.

From Port Angeles to Neah Bay, the road was mostly heaven. Hot Road and Tackle lost us quickly as I worked on still getting past my residual fear of corners. But the corners were cambered perfectly and the road was fairly recently paved, and the scenery was typical Pacific Northwest Beautiful, and the weather was sunny but not hot, so the ride was sheer Nirvana. Well until we hit the Reservation, where the roads went to crap, and we got stuck behind some other bikers, including one obese couple on a cruiser. But that part was short.

Riding back we tried the other route, turning at Sappho to take 101 back to Port Angeles. It was OK, but not as nice as the coastal route, and the part by the lake suffered from very bad paving.

In Port Angeles we decided what to do next. We were way ahead of where we thought we'd be by that point. We investigated taking the ferry over to Vancouver Island, but nothing until the next morning. We then found a decent Mexican restaurant (Las Casitas at First and Eunice), and ate and debated what to do next. The weather was blowing up, so we vetoed the Hurricane Ridge idea. We tried to find a room in town, but there was some music festival on, and we couldn't. So we decided to head for Port Townsend and try to make the next ferry.

Well, by not exactly observing the speed limit (and having a nice ride with some random WA bikers who stayed with us until we turned off for Port Townsend), we managed to make it just before the sailing. On the ferry, we tried to call places on Whidby to find a place to stay, but the expense and the lack of road for the next day made us decide to just press on for home that night, as it was only 2.5 hours past the ferry. We also mirthfully observed the folding armrests and drinkholders for the passengers on the Goldwings in front of us.

On the way home, we got separated from Tab, which caused some consternation on all sides, but we all got home safely. I think we slept especially soundly that night - a 12 hour day of riding with one meal will do that. The trip also did wonders for my riding confidence, ironing out some of my lingering fear and raising my limits.

Oh, and practicalities: each of us spent about $100 US and the trip was about 850 km.

Map of trip


Waiting at the border - Peace Arch wait time N/A my arse


Crossing the border with Hot Rod

photo by tackle_me_2

Tab at the border


Tackle at the border

photo by Hot Rod

Hot Rod and Tab on the Port Townsend Ferry

photo by tackle_me_2

Me and funny lady on the ferry

photo by tackle_me_2

All of us on the ferry

photo by Hot Rod

Apparently the eagle's name is Fred - and he sits there all summer - kinda fitting for Port Townsend, really


The Waterstreet Hotel we stayed at. This town is cool...all victorian buildings.

photo by tackle_me_2

The bikes in front of the hotel.

photo by tackle_me_2

View from back of hotel


Tip of Port Townsend


Great staircase in hotel


Hotel room


Sweet suite actually


Eating brekky - thanks tackle!


Leaving hotel


Hot Rod's visor cleaning service


A wee break

Photo by Hot Rod

TM2 being a Badass...

photo by Hot Rod

Tired badasses on ferry back


Tackle pole dancing at gas station in Blaine

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'Round Richmond

We headed out tonight for a quick little jaunt around Richmond - a nice easy little ride along River Road to Westminster Highway, to Number 6 Road, to Steveston Highway, to Number 5, to the dykes, to Steveston, where we stopped for hot beverages, sitting outside so we wouldn't get all warmed up. We then headed down Number 1 to River Road, but then had to head through a dirt parking lot outside the casino because the road was closed due to a downed power line, and then home again. Just a wee little ride, but most pleasant.


Photos by photogirl:
Heading out for a little ride


to the right, thumpers only parking...


a.k.a. the singles club

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Just another manic Monday

So, last week my horn stopped working, something I discovered when somone decided that my lane was better than his and that I didn't really need my portion of it (I had to resort to sign language!). I'd also had some problems with Penny stalling out repeatedly while warm. So I took her into the shop on Saturday to get these things fixed. While I was waiting around, I decided to wander over to the other motorcycle store across the way and check out heated vests. I bought one and wandered back to my fixed bike.

What I should have done was do that earlier and ask them to put the lead on for me when they disconnected the battery. Ah, well, hindsight and all that.

I got home and had a bit of time to kill before a party, so decided to do the quick little job of attaching the lead. I should have realized what I was in for when I saw the instructions for taking out the battery, which involved removing the left side fairing, but again with the hindsight thing.

And actually, removing the fairing wasn't so hard - it was finding the star key that I dropped into the engine that gave me pause. After rolling it back and forth and shaking the bike side to side I finally tried the percussive method, which worked. I finally got the fairing off, and after much fiddling and cursing and being happy that my hands are tiny, I attached the lead. I then started to reattach the fairing. But when I dropped the plastic nut that went with one screw into the bike while trying to reattach a very fiddly piece, I gave up and went to the party.

Somehow, on Sunday I managed to not get down to finish the job. So, on Monday, I got up early to go down and finish it.

To try and find the blasted piece I took off the other fairing, felt around and shook the bike a lot. I finally decided to put it back together without that piece. Not as easy as it sounds. The screws holding the turn signals on would not bite their holes no matter how hard I tried, and there were a couple of screws I just couldn't get to line up at all. I knew those could wait, but I couldn't ride with the turn signals hanging down limply.

So, in desperation and nearly in tears I decided to try BMW's roadside assistance. They said they'd send a driver out, but weren't sure if he could help. It turned out he didn't carry any tools and he couldn't get the turn signals back on with the crappy BMW provided tools either, which did make me feel less incompetent, but didn't help me get on with the day. I finally borrowed his electrical tape and taped them back on, so his visit wasn't a complete waste. But I should have kept him - once more, hindsight.

So, I put everything away and got ready to go, late, but not terribly bad. In trying to attach my tank bag, I realized that in my increasing frustration, I had attached the plastic rails wrong - took me a bit to take them off and figure out how they really went back on. So, everything attached and on, I tried to start the bike. No go.

I had started the bike earlier to make sure that the leads weren't draining the battery. Turns out that the bike only had one start in it that morning. The installation process had likely drained the battery just enough to make it a problem - the bike wouldn't start again. I tried bumpstarting it down the incline in the underground parking, but nothing. I called BMW roadside assistance again and was told it would take an hour or two with that first company - they then tried another company that said they'd be there in 20 minutes or half an hour.

Of course, it was much longer than that, and there had been some miscommunication, because the guy who showed up thought he was coming for a BMW car. He was an old sloppy guy, missing his front teeth, and with a condescending attitude towards me as a woman that soon became especially ironic as he tried to attach the (car-sized) jumper cables to the wrong posts. I corrected him, but he was unable to get the cables attached because of the aforementioned tricky positioning of the battery and the size of the clips. After some conversation with roadside assistance, much condenscension from the driver and much kicking of a wooden dirt holder by me as I tried not to go more ballistic than I already was, he told me there was no other option than to take the bike into the dealer. But, since he only had a lowered pimped out pickup truck with a covered back, that would mean calling another driver with a trailer. That was arranged.

The other driver didn't take long to show up, and when he found out that I only needed a boost, ingeniously used his vice grips and the jumper cables to get me started without taking it to the dealer. Finally, a useful driver! I finally got on my way, only 3 hours after I should have been at work.

It was necessary to take a quick spin out the highway to make sure the battery was recharged - of course, it had nothing to do with my need to twist the throttle back, feel the air buffet my helmet and let my frustration melt away into the wind.

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Supper in Squamish

The SpeedyBikeGirls got together after work for a quick jaunt up to Squamish for dinner at a pub (it's funny how this becomes a normal idea on a bike). Despite getting, um, misdirected a couple times in the search for gas, it was a great ride. The construction area was a little rough, but it didn't slow up traffic too badly. It was the first time that several of the girls had been up to Squamish. It was a little chilly coming back, and it was then I decided heated grips weren't enough, and decided that I would buy a heated vest. And luckily, after the gas thing and the first misdirection, I didn't have to lead anymore.

For anyone reading from outside the area, Squamish is really not a destination. The reason for going there is the highway, known as the Sea to Sky (or S2S) Highway. Local bikers do the route incessantly and gather to pose with their pretty outfits at the Starbucks in Squamish (not saying I've never been there...). But it's a fun little road, which everyone hopes won't be ruined by the "upgrading" it's going through for the Olympics.

Photos by photogirl.

The girls


The bikes


Another ride, another helmet table

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