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May 23, 2023

Photos 📷 / Inmate Photos of the Week (20

Welcome to ADVrider’s Photos of the Week. We begin this week with a Featured

Welcome to ADVrider's Photos of the Week. We begin this week with a Featured Photo that captures the essence of adventure: the long road, the lone motorcycle, the big land under an even bigger sky. Here is @nick949eldo with his 1972 Moto Guzzi Eldorado, heading north on Quebec's Highway 389, heading for Labrador City in the far east of Canada just a week or two ago. It doesn't get more lonely or self-reliant than this, and that seems to be what appeals to nick949eldo. A few more images from nick949eldo below.

The North Road in northern Quebec runs from the Billy Diamond Highway across to Choibougamau. It's about 410 km of gravel highway, easy riding in some areas, but rough in parts with numerous sand traps and divots which are best to avoid if your suspension is archaic (and even if it's ultra-modern). This picture was taken after visiting Longue Pointe on James Bay, and on my way to Cartwright in Labrador.

At the hotel in Labrador City. Nick949eldo's Guzzi is the one on the left, but you knew that.

Heading in to Cartwright on the Labrador coast. This road was in astonishingly good condition. Beautifully graded and unexpectedly easy to ride. After a night in the Northside motel, the old girl wouldn't start. Such things happen when you ride an old bike. A quick cleaning of the carb jets while my jump-starter acquired some juice and we were soon back in business.

This bike is a tractor. Not fast, but steady and I’ll ride her anywhere. Heading back down the 85 km long gravel road from Cartwright to the Trans-Labrador Highway in the morning, I didn't see another vehicle until about half an hour had passed on the TLH. There's perfection in an empty road, the hum (well, more of a roar really) of a solid, classic motorcycle and the still pure air that exists in places like this.

Here are two pictures from @Mt Hillbilly after a ride up the mountain a few miles from his house. Here, we’re south of Montana's Glacier National Park, which a few decades ago was a fabulous motorcycle road, but is too crowded with buses and tourists now. This was a third attempt to make it up the mountain: "finally the snow is all gone!" That's Glacier National Park in the background.

Photos taken around the first of June.

Here are two shots from @Tjilpi, taken near Elliott in South Africa while heading toward "The Guardians." The bike is 2023 BMW G310 GS. Pictures taken a few months ago.

@575roodog attended the 2023 Giant Loop ride in eastern Oregon on the first weekend of June and says he had "a great time."

My main goal was to get out on the Alvord Desert which is huge, a dry lake bed on the eastern side of the Steens Mountains. Land speed records have be attempted and set here, although they were at no risk of being broken by me! I’ll definitely be going back in the future. The vastness of the entire area was impressive to say the least.

Here is a shot from @drufiddy, who was out on his 2022 Aprilia Tuareg 660 last Sunday.

The Sierra Buttes near Sardine Lake o˞ the Golden Chain Highway in Northern California. Photo taken on Sunday June 4 on a day ride, exploring some killer dirt roads in the area.

One year ago, @Gemel took a bike trip on his 2017 KTM 1290 SAR in order to attend his wife's cousin's wedding in Napa, California.

I left Portsmouth, Rhode Island, early on a Thursday morning, with a promise to H, (wifey) that I’ll ride safe and to meet her in San Fransisco the following Friday for dinner before the wedding. I was carrying my trousers and deck shoes, she would just bring my blazer and shirt.

First night found myself in Joliet, Illinois, and the following day in Omaha, Nebraska, not bad I thought, which meant I could now slow down a tad and take in the scenery.

I always wanted to go by Ogallala, having read about it being a cattle station, when I was much younger. Had enough time there to go looking around and grab a bite before heading further west, finally getting on the highway.

Cheyenne came next riding on Rt 30, which more or less paralleled the highway but afforded me some flavour of the older parts of these lands, which tend to get overlooked.

Went along 130, towards Centennial, with the intention to get close to Sugarloaf Mountain, which I did, but then promptly dropped the bike in ball bearing gravel while trying to get the bike by a sign, for a glamour shot. Serves me right I suppose.

Kept pushing along at a steady pace towards Salt Lake City and spent a night at my brother in law's house. The following day, headed south west towards Dugway, Delta, Enoch, when I came across a cloud of dust in the middle of nowhere which could only have been another bike. Cool!

Turns out it's another European chap, Stefan, who used to work in Providence, RI at Brown & Sharp instruments, now well past retirement age, keeps an Africa Twin in a lock-up in Canada and spends a few months of the year traveling around these parts on his bike, loaded like a camel with paper maps, pencilling in every trail and dirt road he can ride on! Damn! Now that is commitment. After a fuel up and coffee, we head our separate ways, me towards the south west and Stefan north, slowly back up to British Columbia.

At this stage I must admit to have already lost a sensible perception of time. I knew it was Tuesdayish, or possibly Wednesday, but got back on the highway blasted through Las Vegas and spent the night in Barstow to gather myself after those last few days of Utah wilderness and dust.

The following day met up with my new friends, the Chapmans, at one of their favourite watering holes, The Rock Inn, at Hughes Lake. Leaving lunch, dropped my bike for the second time so far, while walking it backwards from it's parking spot. Now with a clearer idea on some interesting routes to get me up to San Fransisco, I set off up west side of central valley.

Took 33 north to Coalinga, followed by a detour through Coalinga Rd to Pinnacles National Park and found a great spot for the night in Salinas. The most impressive part of riding through the valley early in the morning were the fragrances of fresh fruit and berries in the clear air. It was absolutely amazing.

The following day caught up with wife's sis, at Carmel before heading up to the airport for H's arrival. She took an Uber to Steve in San Matteo from whom she was renting a 650GS for a few days, to ride together with the Chapman's and myself along the eastern Sierras.

Two days at the wedding in Napa, then lubed chain and together we headed off to Angel's Camp where we were meeting up with the Chapmans.

Taking most of 395 heading south is a story in itself, but great riding and scenery was nearly everywhere. Angel's Camp to Bridgeport, then Bishop, Lone Pine, Olancha, through Sherman Pass to Kernville, before getting back onto wonderful 33 down to Ventura.

There we left the Chapmans, while H & I took the easy, but scenic and crowded, PCH back to San Fransisco. Her bike was returned with an added 1100 miles on the odometer, but in better condition than when she picked it up as I added some anti rattle tape to the front pads to remove the annoying squeal, other than that it worked flawlessly.

H insisted we must have a burrito from the Mission district, before a quick kiss and my departure to get back to the east coast.

Rains began to flood Yosemite and with road closeures decided to head north east, and found myself on the road to Lake Tahoe, Fallon with the intention to get ton Salt Lake City in a day or two. Things began to slow down on Rt 50, due to what I thought was oil on the road, but in actual fact were Mormon crickets, getting squashed and spreading like a slick. I called ahead to the only hotel I could find en route and that was in Eureka, NV. One room was available and it's mine for $68. Yeay! Just need to get there. Sun setting and still a bit slippery about, I pull up to this old fashioned sort of hotel, in a sleepy small town, with 3 young guys sipping beer and grilling some dogs and burgers over a home made grill which was half a large propane tank cut lengthwise. The manager was one of them and said the room was the one right beside his office, forgive the mess as it's occasionally used for storage. Fine by me.

Dinner, oh boy, could eat a cow.

It's the 3rd of July, the old fashioned saloon, opposite is open, but with the local sherri˞ standing outside with a bull horn asking people to leave as the rowdiness has got out of control, didn't make me comfortable that the kitchen is operative. Sure enough, inside the barman is doing shots with a pretty patron, the kitchen sta˞ shouted back that the pizzeria up the road should be open. Ok thanks.

Pizzeria found, looks like it's closed. Actually shuttered is the appropriate term for it. So, gas station dinner it is, tin of chilli, cheetos and some sparkling water for it's health benefits.

I joined the manager and his friends, while they struggled with their frozen meat on the grill, I bought a bought a beer from them and ate mine at room temp. After dinner, was invited to the roof of the hotel to watch fireworks being let off by the local fire department. Cool, but couldn't quite see how a building with a pitched roof has access for firework viewing, unless it's through windows. Hmmmm.

Gathering our chairs, we lumber up 4 flights of stairs until we reach the roof line which then has a door out back, leading to a road. Nice! There already was a crowd seated in prep for the firework display and was introduced to the manager's mother, who shortly thereafter stood up to greet, with a peck on his cheek, the sheri˞ I saw earlier. He noticed me and enquired if that bike with the RI plate was mine. Polite conversation lead to me explaining my travels, and that I was heading back to RI.

Fire works were cool to see and had a fun evening even getting to meet the manager's grand mother and her husband too. It began to feel crowded and popped o˞ to have an early start the following morning. Down stairs again, I come across another bike, an R1800, with the full shebang and sporting North Carolina plates. A cool guy doing a fund raising ride, cross country for kids with disabilities and with the bike loaned from his local bike shop. He fortunately had booked a room earlier so was all set, but we agreed to head to head out east together in the morning.

We set off together, but alas our pace was different and after an hour or so, was back on my own. I actually saw him again about 4 hours later, pulling into the Bonneville Salt Flats, just as I was leaving, heading to Salt Lake City.

Spent two days in SLC and while there cancelled an order I had placed, a week earlier while still in CA, for a rear tire. I suspected that it would be shot by the time I returned to SLC, so ordering one in advance and have it replaced at Cycle Gear would work. However, by the time I was in Carmel with H a few days previously, realized I may not make it to SLC at all. So opted to replace the rear while still in CA, that way if I have to push to get home, I can do so without the added worry of threads.

With more concerns about my time away from gainful employment, I slowly realized that I had already been away 22 days. No panicked calls yet, but was sure they’re imminent.

So I decided to head east relatively quickly, first into Wyoming, then north a tad into South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan Upper Peninsula, Ontario, New York then finally back to Rhode Island. The upside of this last decision was I realized that the Upper Peninsula is accessible in a couple of days from Portsmouth, as that's an area I’d really like to spend some time tootling around, though there are other northern states I’d like to spend more time in.

Traveling solo, I was apprehensive of too much rough road work, one hiccup could have been the end of my trip, so played it a bit cautiously.

All done, back home after 27 days, the bike covered 9,986 miles, with one rear tire and no other demands. Chain, sprockets, oil change and valve check were due for replacement, but other than that zilch.

The bike owes me absolutely nothing, it withstood my stupidity and occasional abuse and took me everywhere I wanted, with two Iron Butt certificates to boot, for a Saddle Sore 1000 and a Bun Burner 1500.

Well, Inmates and visitors, we hope you’ve enjoyed the trip. This last one was quite a bit longer than we usually publish here at Photos of the Week, but our supply of photos was small, and Gemel submitted so many pictures that we thought, "Say, let's use them all!" Well, we didn't do that, but we used nearly all of them, and we hope you enjoyed the view. Till next week, then, adios, and happy riding!