Most will know Squadra Guzzista member Rod (Morizzi) by now. He is a native Australian and has written some terrific articles in the past about Moto Guzzis. Have a look at the "Features" pages and you'll find his informativepieces on small blocks and his Cali. Rod had planned a trip to the USA and purchased a SP1000 on e-bay for the journey. With the aid of a netbook and some wi-fi witchcraft we are fortunate to be able to follow Rod as he traverses the US on his SP. Thanks Rod for your efforts and best of luck with the trip. Readers can also keep in touch with Rod by opening a thread at the foot of this page...over to Rod...

As I walked up to the baggage carousel I heard someone call my name. Ron was there to meet me at Dayton and help finish the final part of my 2 day journey to Dayton and the SP1000.


I had soon met all the family, Susan his wife, Daisy the border collie and more cats than anyone could be expected to remember names. Their hospitality and assistance was warmly accepted, not to mention essential, in the next phase which required dealing with the BMV. At the first attempt the title transfer was done easily with just money and some notarized documents being adequate but it was obtaining the license that we met with unrelenting and unimaginative resistance. It Is amazing what can be done if you find the right person that is willing to think logically and in a short time I was walking out of the Lebanon BMV with a 30 day temporary license. This just goes to prove the impossible to one is not the impossible to another.

The bike was loaded and ready to go on Thursday morning, 20 May 2010. I headed off east towards West Virginia and to assist a small block owner with a V65 that needed a Dyna S fitted. I only had one incident when I started trying to ride on my traditional side of the road but an oncoming large SUV quickly reminded me.



I arrived at Pauls house mid afternoon near Burnsville. We then set about fitting the ignition. We got there but it was hampered by a flywheel with incorrect markings, very general fitting instructions and my very tired and jet lagged brain that refused to function normally. I can only guess that the flywheel was incorrectly fitted after a clutch replacement. We also had to bypass the normal power arrangement due to the key being with the fuel tank at the painters who had gone out of town for a week.



I enjoyed Paul and his families hospitality that night and headed off on Friday morning. I had plenty of time to plan my route as I am waking at about 4.00 am. I am anxiously awaiting for my body clock to reset.
I decided to fill at Burnsville and noticed a fuel leak on the LH side. I could see it running down the fuel line from the inlet area but of course that is the side with that hidden. I had to remove the tank to gain even the remotest access and did so as carefully as I could not to scratch the paint whilst I juggled the completely full tank. I did this a few times as I tightened and tried but it was to no avail. I removed the inlet banjo to find a hairline crack. It must of only just occurred otherwise I would have noticed it earlier. Fortunately I had a spare but that made me check the RH side. It looked tired and fatigued too but I was out of spares so I would have to trust to luck.



I headed east towards the Blue Ridge Mountains. The roads in eastern Ohio and in Western Virginia are fantastic. I tried to stay in Monterey VA but the phone lines were down so no credit card transactions or internet. I continued on to Staunton where I got a bit lost due to the 2 different Route 250 Easts. One is a bypass. When I pulled over to check the map I was surprised to hear someone asking me if I was OK. A gent had seen me pull over and stopped just in case I was in trouble. He had a bike too and was more than happy to give m directions and send me on my way. I found a room for the night in a budget motel and settled in. Having internet and power I commenced this journal. Being a Friday night I thought I might go and have a few beers and some fun but after a bite and one light beer I really needed a sleep more than anything.

Installment 2. The Blue Ridge Parkway. 22 March 10.

Despite my weariness I was woken in the early hours by sounds that I have only ever heard in a cheap skin flick. I thought I must be listening to a video but I realised in time that it wasn´t. Fortunately my fatigue got the better of me and I become blissfully unconcious again. I was loading the bike when the lady from the next room appeared. Funnily she didn´t look anything like her ´voice.´

I had been watching the weather channel. Things didn´t look good. It was lame and repetitive and to top things off the weather forecast was crap, rain and thunderstorms. It looked only marginally better to the south so I took the hint. I was off by 7,30. I remembered the way I had come into town so I headed off in that directio after fuelling. I found the signs to Route 11 South and followed themn and after 5 miles I passed the motel I had stayed in and headed out of town! I knew I was heading away from the West Virginia Rally due the next weekend but the Gods of weather channel had spoken.

I crossed to the Blue Ridge Parkway on 52 that connected at Vesuvius and turned south. There is a 45 mph limit but the road is just fantastic. It is just one curve after another, the surface is smooth and its so clean I can imagine someone sweeping it. For any Australians reading its like Mt Glorious but it goes for hundreds of miles. The road was flanked by forest that arched and crowded the sky. It wasn´t until further south where outlooks made seeing the surrounding hills and valleys a possibility. I found myself humming tunes in my helmet and cruising along lazily. It was just too easy for the speed to slip higher but I attempted to keep it in check. After all I was on a solo tour.



There was virtually no traffic. I didn´t have to pass a car until I had gone more than 70 miles! A few cars were travelling in the opposite direction but I would go for ages between seeing them. I had been told it was heavily patrolled but I didn´t see one sign of it. I stopped for coffee at Otter Creek and while I sat outside and sipped not one car went by.



There was a bit more traffic near Roanoke. People walking, jogging and cycling. The vegetation cleared a bit and houses and farms became visible. When I saw the cyclists I immediately thought of a good friend who I traveled to Europe with in ´83 to pick up bikes. I was glad he wasn´t with me this time otherwise he would never be satisfied with his training circuit back home ever again.



I continued south and the sky was starting to threaten now but it didn´t bring any rain at all until I was 140 miles south of my previous nights stay. I couldn´t complain though. The forecast was horrific but I had 3 glorious hours of credit before the debit cut in and cut in it did. I was not far from the North Carolina border near Route 58 when it just closed in. Low cloud and rain brought visibility down to braille distances of 20 metres or less. I perservered for a while but eventually took the hint and headed off on 52 up to Hillsville. Once away from the parkway visibility iincreased dramatically but so did the rain. I got directions and found a motel on the intersection of I77 and 58/221. I´m recommending the Red Carpet Inn to anyone passing. Its a cheapie but q goodie. $44 inc tax with clean rooms, good bathroom and still quiet despite I77. There is a chinese/mexican buffet next door and a petrol station in the complex. Naturally once I had stopped the skies cleared.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on small maintenance issues. I fixed the dash turn indicators and adjusted the levers to suit my position. I also took the opportunity to repair the cracked fuel banjo and reinforce the other with JB Weld. Not ideal but it should get me out of trouble if the other fails.

Blue Ridge Parkway, Take 2.

I woke after a better sleep to find fog, fog and some more fog. 3 guys on Harleys were wiping the moisture from their bikes as I loaded the SP. They were on their way home to Maryland but admired the Guzzi. One of them asked me if I knew what I had and called it a ¨Diamond in the rough.¨ I almost blushed.

I waited for the day to clear and in the meantime enjoyed the complimentary breakfast and coffee at the motel. I got away just before 9.00 but decided against the Parkway at first. If there was still fog then it would have it. I followed 221 south and it was a good curvy road in places too. I got back on the parkway at Blowing Rock.

The sun had brought out the tourists, day trippers ad bikes. A lot more traffic than yesterday but still not too bad. I was glad I wasn´t heading North as there seemed to be a steady stream of RV´s crawling that way. Every bike rider had the wave or should I say extended arm. I came up on a couple riding Harleys. They pulled off into a lookout and I followed. I wanted to check the headlight. I had been almost blind going through one of the tunnels. Sure enough no low beam, probably the globe. I took a snuggling shot of the Harley couple for them and then went on my way. From that time on I had riders and walkers pointing at my headlight. I just shrugged and continued on. Its not compulsory to have the light on in Australia and down right impossible if the filament is broken.

The day being clearer and the vegetation being less dense contributed to some lovely vistas.



A rider must have come off as an ambulance and the Toe Fire Department went screaming by. I was very impressed by the way the truck apexed the corners. They obviously had lots of practice. As I went by the scene more bikers pointed and yelled about my broken light. I have never seen such concern over a globe before amidst an almost nonchalant air for the rider down.

I was stopped at some road works but the hill was so steep the bike wouldn´t stay on the stand without rolling away down hill. The traffic controller kindly got me a rock to chock the wheel. Further along rock falls had closed a section of he parkway so I had to exit on 191. I decided not to return but to head west on 64. It is also a great bike road with hundreds of bikes passing me the other way.



Roger the controller:



By 4,00 pm I was looking for a place to stay. I wanted some time to check the headlight and sure enough the filament was gone.

The Mt Toxway Motel appeared and I booked in. It certainly is a different part of the world here. It appears to be one old motel amidst golf clubs and resorts so getting fed on a Sunday night was a bit of a hassle unless you wanted to pay to become a member. I ettled in for an early night still trying to catch up. Its only the end of the first week away and the fourth day touring averaging 250 miles for them.

Thoughts so far.

I´ve only been here a short time but I have made a few observations.

I think I know what Los stands for in Los Angeles. ¨Lots Of Sirens.¨ I didn´t wait more than 30 minutes between emergency vehicles screaming past my motel. Probably a good indication of the neighbourhood my cheap hotel was in.

I´ve got to ask if anyone knows. Which is more prevalent, churches or auto parts stores? They are both everywhere and open all hours including Sundays.

Georgia

I was up early on Monday morning. I did a bit of trip planning as my maps didn´t cover my destination of Waverley Hall, Georgia. I´m getting used to the route system now but I can still get a bit lost in towns. There is sometimes only one sign for a route diverging and if you miss it or it is blocked by a truck then a little extra distance occurs.

I headed west on 64. It is a good twisty road and so is 106 that I used to cut down to the state line and 441.The mountains were left behind and I was now in the foothills and pine forests of northern Georgia. I stopped off for a coffee on 441 at Clayton. A local on a HD parked next to me. I couldn´t help myself and complimented him on his helmet.



Please note the 2 different styles of helmets sitting on the bike´s bars.

I bypassed Atlanta traveling down 441, 85, 53, 11, 138, 81, 36 and finally 208 to arrive at about 4.00pm. On the way there are sill lots of reminders of the Confederacy. A memorial for their heroes. Jackson, GA.



I was meeting Eric at one of the fuel stations at 5.00 and my plan was to use that time to buy a couple of bottles of wine for dinner. Unfortunately the town had no such capabilities so I was left empty handed. Eric turned up early on his Breva and I followed him back to is home where Tatiana was waiting.Eric has a zigolo too that he is restoring. It is in quite good condition already but it is a work in progress. He took the SP for spin and was quite impressed with it for a 31 year old bike It was an excellent evening. Food and bevereges were plentiful and the conversation bouyant. Many thanks to them both.





Eric had to work so I was away early too. I headed back along my previous day´s route due to the lack of a map. I exited 85 onto 129 and followed it north towards ´The dragon´s tail¨ a famous bike road between North Carolina and Tennessee. Even the road leading up to it is great. I saw an interesting bumper sticker en-route; ¨I´m not a redneck. I´m a southerner with attitude.¨ I stopped off several times still trying to find a replacement headlight globe. Everyone in auto stores or bike shops just looked at me as if I was an alien when I mentioned a P45T base.



Can you spot the SP at the hotel?

I arrived in Robbinsville o the 129 just before 4.00. After booking in at a bike friendly hotel I walked down the main street, tried the auto parts store to no avail but then I spied a small bike shop. I went in to Mountain Motorcycles and the owner was working out back. When I mentioned the P45T base he gave me that quizzical look and said ¨ I haven´t sold one of those in years.¨ He then walked into the shop and to a shelf and came up with one straight away! He was even aware of the carby banjo fittings and had a similar one for a 2 stroke Dellorto that may have fitted. He had a laugh as I paid for it. $8.25, far cheaper than any other H4 bulb I had seen, He said ´It didn´t go up with the last price rice, its been sitting there for years.´ So there you have it. If you go to slay the dragon and have a few issues then there is a reliable guy in Robbinsville that actually knows his trade.





Buying Fuel.

This isn´t as easy as it sounds. So many of the pumps differ. I´m trying to reduce the usage of my card for small purchases in case I get hit with a lot of fees so but some of the pumps won´t let me anyway. They require a zip code and of course don´t have one. This means that a cash prepayment is required where yo need to play the´how much fuel do I need game.´

Not all are like this which just makes it confusing. Some will actually let you fill then walk in and pay as we do Oz.

The Dragon´s Tail, Route 129.

Some of you may of heard of the Dragon´s Tail. If not then here is the legend:

The Dragon´s Tail

Wednesday morning I woke early and enjoyed the complimentary breakfast while everyone else was still asleep. It was growing light and the fog was all too apparent. I slowly packed my gear and loaded the bike. There was no hurry as visibility was only about 100m. I spent some time chatting to the HD and Victory owners who were everywhere. Most of them were shocked to learn the SP was 31 years old and still going strong.

It got to 8.00am and the fog was still present but I´d waited long enough. All the other riders were polishing their bikes with the hotel´s bath towels. The SP and I felt no need for such frivolity. We headed off up 129 and exchanged a wave with the bike shop owner. The SP and I slowly got into our rhythm as both the engine and tyres warmed, not to mention the old rider who needed to flex out a bit too.

It felt like I had the tail all to myself and I virtually did. I caught a rider on a Honda GL1800. His lines and style were worse than mine and I passed him easily. I felt no real elation though. The spinning red, white and blue fox tail fro an antenna indicated to me that he may not be a ex Moto GP rider. I was just like a kid with a new toy, the bike was running great, my new H4 bulb was shining brightly and one of the famous bike rides in the USA was all mine.

The SP is just getting better and better. I continually had to back off the idle screw through the first week as it just smoothed out. It is now pulling harder and running smoother than it did initially . It is becoming home for me too. I rarely get off it during the day except for fuelling. I can unfold maps, change glasses, take photos and remove layers all from the saddle.


The further I went the better the weather got. By the time I got to the Tennessee border the sun was shining and the sky was crystal blue. The SP was just growling through the corners and didn´t seem to be affected by the lack of polishing at all. I didn´t bother to stop at any of the outlooks. I wa enjoying the solitude and wanted to make the most of it before any others arrived. I´d do the stopping and photos on the return. 11 miles on the Tennessee side the road was blocked to to a rock fall so I turned and headed back. Initially I as disappointed when I learned that the route was blocked but in reality it was perfect. No through traffic, no cars, no trucks, only bikes enjoying the road.







There are a couple of photographers who sit on a corner, day after day, taking and selling photos. I stopped and had a chat as I was the only rider there and they weren´t busy. On the way down they surprised me so my line through there was even worse than it would have been. There was other company too, the road was clear on my entry but on the return there were 2 separate Tennessee State Trooper patrol cars hidden by the road. Fortunately for me I was going around a steep, tight curve both times so all was good or maybe they were just really impressed with my new headlight.

I stopped in at the Deal´s Gap Motorcycle Resort. One guy gave me a thumbs up so I stopped. It was cwiseman (spelling?) from the wild guzzi forum. He was there for a week on his calvin. He recommended route 28 so I returned to Robbinsville that way and 143 west. This is a fabulous route too.



I decided to head further west on 143 along the Cherohala Skyway. This road climbs to over 5300´ and is magnificent in its own right.


It turns to 165 as it changes States and it changes personality too. Quite a number of washouts pushing loose gravel over the otherwise excellent surface, It was here that I spied a very special car. Ron had sold the SP tp help pay for an XKE Jag that he plans to restore. I thought a group photo was only fitting for his benefit.



360, another small gem, led me up to 411 where I was going to track north east. Unfortunately I got a bit muddled at the major interchange of 411 North and 441 North and ended up somewhere north of Knoxville after enduring city traffic. I got back to I 40 and then I 81 to make up some time before stopping in Bristol Virginia.

The Tail loop had taken me 2 hours and I covered bout 70 miles.It was just over that distance again along 143 and 360 to get back onto the concrete slab of 411. All in all, a memorable morning but did we slay it? Unlikely, the 31 year old SP and the 52 year old very average rider did live to fight another day and if the dragon checks itself carefully, it may just discover some light bruising. I consider that a win.

Thursday. Back to West Virginia.

I headed off at about 8.00, north along I 81. Lemuel, the WV Guzzi Rep had contacted me and suggested a route to his place near Hinton. North along 16 from Marion, then south east along 10, north on 19, a short crossover then north on 20. All up a great ride with very few straight roads bsides the interstate. The roads were again fantastic but I´m learning that isn´t uncommon here. It took me 5 hours for about 200 miles.

The Virginia section was defined by the coal mines and the large coal trucks roaring along the narrow winding roads but there weren´t too many fortunately. I stopped for fuel and had another interesting adventure. I thought I had followed the instructions but the pump just wouldn´t pump. When I went in to see why it was explained that despite the 3 buttons on the pump they only sold regular and I had chosen premium. A new variant for me to consider.

When I arrived at Hinton I finally found the wifi equipped McDonalds but it wouldn´t connect me to anything so I went to Lemuel´s favourite restaurant, borrowed their phone and gave him a call. He obligingly came to meet me to guide me back but in the meantime the weather closed in.



Once it eased we headed back to his place outside of town and I started to do a few checks on the bike. I´m starting to think the small oil leak is due to overfilling. Once the level gets below a certain point it remains quite stable.




Once out of the valley the sky cleared and the view was pretty impressive.



New Cumberland Rally, WV.

My morning got off to a poor start, the SP didn´t want to start. I finally shorted out the starter motor and got it to fire but I put a screwdriver in my pocket just in case. Lemuel kindly suggested we stay and find out what was wrong but I could tell by the voltmeter that the charging circuit was working so I insisted we head off. I was 99% sure the bike would make it.

The forecast was for rain and with a dodgy starting circuit we decided to go up route 20, a slightly more direct route than originally planned. We had been going for a short distance when I felt something touch my leg. I quickly reached down and grabbed the side cover. That rubber holding grommet on the bottom pin had come away so I was lucky not to lose it.

Lemuel on his 750 Breva is quick, especially in the corners. We both had a couple of hairy moments in blind curves that had a reducing radius profile. I´ve noticed a lot of variation in the speed recommendation signs in the US. Some are overly cautious where others, even on the same road, can be far too realistic. I struggled with the heavier older SP to keep up. I simply played follow the red dot and slam on the anchors when I see a bright red dot. It was an interesting game.

I noticed that my brakes were binding slightly. At a fuel stop I quickly relieved the excess pressure and continued on but the binding returned. It was the lever return spring not doing its job and allowing the master cylinder piston to be pushed in slightly. Some toe work remedied the problem until I had a chance to adjust it.

We reached New Cumberland via route 2. It is an old steel industrial area along the side of the Ohio river in the ¨Panhandle¨ of West Virginia. The story has it that when the survey party was defining he state line they came across a group of Indians that weren´t guaranteed to be friendly so the party headed north instead of east and so the state boundary was adjusted.




The rally is put on by the New Cumberland Volunteer Fire Brigade. Camping is along the Ohio River on a nice grassy field right in town. It is an easy walk to restaurants, bars and other facilities. ¨Rebecca´s¨ was the facility of choice for most activities.








I spent my first day off the bike pulling it apart. Being a Guzzi rally I had lots of spectators, commentators, comedians and even a couple of guys who actually helped! I was suspect of the Odyssey gel battery. It was my prime suspect. Optimistically I hooked it back up and Sunday morning would tell the story. Unfortunately it just wouldn´t throw the starter but one of the firemen put me in his car and took me to Wally World (Wal Mart.) $25 for a ride on lawn mower battery and I was ready to go again.

A special thank you is warranted here. Hopefully it will resolve the issue as I can´t find any voltage leaks with the tools I have. I was able to get a fuel banjo from Joe Eish, a well renowned dealer in the area. He turned up on his Cali servi car with parts for lots of riders. His Cali drew a lot of interest.



It was a good get together with about 100 registered attending. Putting faces to names was also entertaining as well as checking out some of the machinery. It didn´t rain at all and was quite warm and sunny. A first for the event. I was told I must be good luck. It was warm enough that I even went for a swim in the river. I made sure I immersed my head too so that I would mutate evenly all over.



Sunday saw another warm day. I headed west with Lemuel until he headed south on 800 and I continued west on 22 until I hit I 70. I did get confused through Cambridge due to poor signage. Sometimes it is excellent but on this occasion it was misleading. I wasn´t the only one stopping on 209 West looking at a map or GPS. I had lots of company.




A special congratulations to Lemuel as he is retiring next Friday. He plans to increase his 30,000 miles a year riding with his spare time and a thank you to him for all his assistance as the SP went attention seeking.

Memorial Day Holiday, Monday.

Before I packed the bike I made sure it started and the old battery wasn´t the only electrical issue. It fired up straight away and the voltmeter indicated that all was fine.

I´d received a Email from Chuck in Indiana stating that I was welcome to come and stay. I usually don´t have to be asked twice so I planned how to get to Elwood via anything but the Interstate. I asked the guy on the desk if the road out the front was route 49 and he told me it was so happily I set off but It didn´t take too long to find out that it was actually 48. A quick re-evaluation and I was cruising along 501 west with only a few hours of riding in front of me.

It was cool and overcast. West Ohio and Indiana flatten out to slight undulations from the hills and curves to the east. I noticed that the farm houses were quite close to each other and I wondered how they could make a living on such small allotments.



I arrived at Chuck´s place just after 11.00 am and was fortunate to meet his son and daughter in law just before they departed. Brad has a V11 so is interested in Guzzis too. Dorcia and Chuck made me feel very welcome and I was more than happy to give Chuck a hand working on some aeroplane bits out in the shed. Thanks to both of them.



Chuck has a workshop that would be the envy of everyone reading this. He even has a small section of the garage just for the Guzzis so the SP was spoiled and had a home for the night.



Whilst we sorted out some maintenance issues the rain and thunderstorm arrived so I was very happy to be inside a climate controlled workshop. We even went to the local airfield for hangar BBQ with a few of their friends for dinner. Quite a pleasant way to pass the time while the storms went over.

Tuesday morning saw me away just after 8.00 once my thank you ere over. I headed off in cool overcast conditions at about 67 F. The further west on 28 I went the lower the cloud became. It wasn´t too much of an issue as total visibility was about a kilometre but I could easily see cars without headlights on well out of my comfort zone.



I crossed into Illinois seamlessly with the landscape being virtually identical but I stopped to wind back the clock by an hour and took the opportunity for a photo. It was the only reason I took a picture of fog.

I had decided to buy myself a cheap GPS as I was running out of paper map coverage. I stopped at Wal Mart in Rantoul. Unfortunately the first one I purchased didn´t work when it was hooked up. The power lead wasn´t working so after a frustrating hour of checks I went back to the store to change it. The staff were very helpful but I had to get a special waiver as new company policy doesn´t allow goods to be returned if they are opened! How they expect you to be able to guess the contents are faulty is beyond reason but that´s the rules. Fortunately I was dealing with some staff who also thought it was unrealistic but be warned in case you do buy expensive products there.

On my way through Illinois I discovered that I had been travelling along a section of the historic route 66, made famous by the song of that name. I hummed it in my helmet as I headed across the Mississipi River and into Missouri. I found myself in Hannibal for the night and settled down for a quiet one and a communications catch up.



The roads.

For all of you that haven´t traveled the US the numbering system makes navigation easier but there are a few tricks to it. The first trick is to keep an alert eye out. They give you one chance to see the sign in most cases, miss it and it can be some time before you realise and pass a route sign on your new route.

Most east west roads are even numbered and north south ones are odd. I have seen a few small county roads contradict this but it is unusual.

A route isn´t a road. It can swap and turn through towns and it can even share a section of road with one or more other routes. A route is a way of getting fro one place to another and it will use any suitable road that achieves this. The same route can go from a 3 lane divided highway to a single lane each way narrow road creeping through a town and have you congested between traffic lights.

Stop lights tend to be suspended by wires above the intersection. For some reason I really have to concentrate to notice them. I suppose its because they aren´t where I normally look for them so they don´t immediately attract my attention.

Many crossroads have stop signs pointing in all 4 directions. It just seems to be first to push through get through first. I certainly can´t work out who is supposed to go first. The other issue is that often if you stop on the indicated white line you can see nothing. They are so far back that seeing any crossing traffic can be impossible.

I´ve finally come to the conclusion that many county mayors must have a brother or relative who is a paint supplier. So many times on a straight road with a clear field of view there are double solid lines. There is clearly enough room to overtake but the lines forbid it.

Just one more small observation on service stations. It is the only place that I have been where they charge for air to pump up the tyres if you can find one where the compressor works. 75c and $1.00 are the to prices I´ve seen. That means 3 or 4 quarters to place in the slot. I must admit that I do find this a worrying trend as many other places may follow suit. It just encourages divers and riders to be on incorrectly inflated tyres.

Wednesday June 2nd. A big day.

I was woken in the night by rain hitting the window of my room. I consoled myself that it should pass in the night and tomorrow would be fine but I was just kidding myself. The morning was dark and forbidding so I did the unthinkable and checked the radar. It looked absolutely awful but I had planned today as a big mileage day and so it would be.

It wasn´t raining on me but I could see rain to the west and the occasional lightning bolt. It wasn´t long before I was on 36 west and heading straight into it. Chuck had recommended this route to me and the road was good, it was everything else that was terrible. I rode into it getting absolutely saturated for 3 hours. I knew the weather was coming from the NNW so when I noticed the lightening south of the route I took a little heart. After a while I could see the grey start to lighten and eventually by bout 10.30 the rain eased. I dropped into Hamilton for a bite at a very traditional diner and the food made me feel better. I was wet but not that cold as the temperature was about 65 F. Being wet can be uncomfortable, cold can be debilitating but cold and wet can challenge the hardiest morale. I kept heading west and by 11.30 I had thin sunlight warming my back as I blowed dry from the front. I was feeling better, much better.

I really didn´t see a lot of Missouri. I know there were cattle there. I didn´t see many but I could smell them in the gloom. From what I could tell the landscape was similar to both Illinois and Indiana but it only cleared up enough near the Kansas border. I crossed the state line and was overjoyed to be able to take this photo in full sunlight. All the rivers in the area are this chocolate brown colour at the moment, even the Blue River.



Route 36 is fairly straight and it does have a few divided sections. Just an example of a better section of it and typical lush undulating landscape.



Passing through Marysville there was a very impressive statue of a pony express rider. It was the location of Station 1 on the relay link. I ended the day after about 480 miles in Norton Kansas that used to be station 15.





Heading for Colorado

It was 5.00 am when a group of Mexican labourers started their truck and left it idling outside my room. I figured it was a sign that it was time to get going.
It was a cool clear morning by the time I had the bike loaded. I headed west on 36, just for a change, and had the road pretty much to myself. I had fueled the previous evening and had done the US thing by riding down without a helmet. A sheer novelty really but not something I plan to make a habit of.

I really enjoy traditional American diners in the morning so I stopped at St Francis and had some breakfast while watching the local farmers go through their ritual. The food is inexpensive as well.

Continuing west I wasnt having much luck finding fuel and I ended up backtracking a few miles to go south on 59 to get fuel on the I 70. It was then a quick blast to the west towards Denver. I was adamant that I,d get the hang of the GPS so I kept persevering with it until I started to get a system. It doesn't have bluetooth or earphones so I cant hear it. I headed west on 86 then north west on 85. The little Garmin took me the rest of the way via 470, I 70, 40 and a few local roads. I just look for the turn arrow, distance to go then use the odometer on the bike.

I arrived at Eric´s mid afternoon. I know him through the Moto Morini list. I find real parrallels between the 2 communities that support both marques. He used to have a T3 but still is into Laverdas and Nortons. I´ve been invited to stay for a Norton BBQ on Saturday so I will hopefully get a few good bike photos. We´ve purchased some drinks so I´ll sign off for tonight.

I only took one photo all day. It was from my first glimpse of the Rockies, not sensational but significant.



It was interesting approaching Denver. I kept looking at the elevation posted on the town signs as I rode through them. Kiowa has an elevation of 6347 feet and I´m not even in the mountains yet! I´ve got a theory that the bike should be less likely to ping due to less air to compress. I´ll try some standard fuel and see what happens.

Golden

I arrived at Eric and Susie´s mid afternoon Thursday. It was good to finally meet. I know Eric from the Morini list but he has just sold his T3 and also has a love of Laverdas and Nortons. The house sits at about 5900 feet but the weather has been mild. I haven´t noticed any real difference though I am a coast dweller and normally live at about 3 feet elevation.



Eric and Susie relaxing on the front porch.

Friday was spent helping get ready for the Norton BBQ and thanks to Eric, giving the SP a service. I also took the opportunity to wash all of my clothes except for one pair of red shorts so forgive me for the bare flesh.



I fixed an oil leak at the base of the dipstick tube and even gave the SP a clean.

Friday evening was spent at an art gallery viewing the work of a new ceramic artists. Is true, I swear, I really did! It will be easier to understand if I explain that drinks and nibbles were provided. Susie even purchased a couple of cups that she liked.

Saturday morning was spent in final preparations for the Norton Club event with the afternoon spent relaxing, socialising, and consuming. There were some absolutely beautifully restored and maintained machines there including these.





There was even another desirable Guzzi there that tried to upstage the mighty SP! A 1976 Lemans presented in stunning reconditioned livery.


Lunch was highlighted by an eating frenzy of crawfish, a fresh water crayfish similar to what Australians would call a yabbie. It was difficult to get clear shot of the table due to the ´enthusiasm´ of the group. It was a great social success but even a quick photo tells a thousand words.



For some more bike pictures go to this link: Norton Club Colorado Event

Once again I would like to express my appreciation to both Eric and Susie for their hospitality, use of facilities and a great weekend. Because of them I´m recharged and the SP is all serviced and ready for the rest of my trip.

There was a Italian car and motorbike day on in Denver on the Sunday so Bob, Eric and myself went along and had a look. There were some great machines there, both 2 and 4 wheel.



I´d been invited to head south with Bob to his place at Crestone. It was too good an opportunity to refuse and Eric decided to ride part way down as i was such good weather. We crossed the Kenosha Pass at 10,000 feet before having lunch in Jefferson where we said goodbye to Eric.



The weather started to deteriorate by the time we got to Salida and the last 60 miles was spent dodging the worst of the thunderstorms with only some light rai at the very end. The SP was struggling a little keeping up with Bob´s fuel injected ST2 in the thinner air but a check of the plugs showed that it wasn´t drastic enough to drop the needle.

Bob and Lisa have a fantastic rustic property with great mountain views at around 8,000 feet. Golden was 5,900 feet.



I headed off Monday morning after thanking them both for their hospitality. Bob had marked my Colorado and Utah map with his favourite roads and even though I wouldn´t be able to do all of them I was certainly planning to do the ones I could. I had used some Slick 50 additive in the SP´s oil and it seemed to be having an effect. The idle was starting to creep up so I wound the idle screw back a touch when I stopped for a photo.





I headed west on 112 and 160 before turning north on 149. What a great road. It follows the Rio Grand for quite a while but there were just too many photo opportunities for me to stop at them all. The further west I went on 50 the more the landscape became dryer and Mesas were the main feature. I turned south at Montrose on 550 and finishing the day at about 4.00 pm at Naturita a bit short of the Utah state line. I wanted to check the bike. Neither the low or high beam were working but a short inspection found a bad connection at the fuse box feeding 12V to the headlight relays. I also need to find myself a rear tyre so I tried to google it for Utah but most of the links were for internet sellers.

To Utah on Tuesday.

I stayed at the motel a bit later to skype a few bike shops. I finally found a tyre to suit in St George, Utah so I bookd in to get it on Thursday. I headed west on 145 intending to take 90 owards Utah but for some reason I missed the turn off. It didn´t take me long to realise that I was heading north on 141 but it was such a great scenic road I kept going. This is Bob´s favourite road and I can see why. I went for 35 miles before dwindling fuel and tyre rubber coerced me to turn around and head for Utah.



On my way on 90 I went through a very, very small town called Bedrock. I needed to mail a letter so I dropped into the post office and met Ruth the Post Master. There are no magic room extensions at the back. It is virtually a square but Ruth was a gem. Its at times like this I find it hard to see the US as a large powerful nation.




Utah is just stunning but in a different way to Colorado. I headed south towards Monument Valley but went south on 261 on Bob´s recommendation. The view from the top of the escarpment was breathtaking. The road winds down the cliff face and is gravel for about 3 miles.





I rode down through Monument Valley with my helmet and jacket strapped to the bike. It made it easier to stop for photos. I was going to head for Arizona but an accident on the highway right on the border had stopped all traffic so I turned around and found a room at Mexican Hat. I met Craig, on a HD and we enjoyed dinner and sonme traveling conversation.


Wednesday 9 June 2010.

I was ready to leave by 7.00 am. I loaded the bike and jumped on but the front brake wasn´t working at all. Anyone within 10 metres would have heard the heavy sigh I emitted even in my helmet. With just the linked brakes I went to the service station to top up. The 30 seconds this trip had taken had given me time to think. I picked up the windscreen washer and hit the master cylinder hard a couple of times with the handle et voila, I had pressure back! This brought a large smile to my dial as I thought of all the technical issues that could have been involved with a sticking master cylinder piston but being a Guzzi, if all else fails then hit it with a stick.

I was going to head north along 261 again and then westish on 95, 24 and 12 as Bob had recommended. I even started to head that way but I couldn´t. I just felt the need to head south through Monument Valley one more time and continue into Arizona so I turned around.

The morning light through the monuments was fabulous and the air temperature perfect. My mind was really in a special place as I cruised through with my MP3 player blaring out David Lee Roth´s ´This could be paradise.´ I decided to keep going before heading east on 160. At Tuba City I stopped for fuel and struck up a conversation with 2 off duty Arizona police on Harleys. They were interested in migrating to Australia so I filled them in with all the good oil.

I was so close I decided to check out the Grand Canyon so I headed south west to the south rim. On the way I stopped off at a lookout but you have to run the gauntlet of Indian souvenier stalls. Every one sells the same stuff/crap. Not one cold drink stall to be seen just beads, pottery and arrows for sale. Oh for the good old days when Indians would send arrows to white men for free! It costs $12 for a bike to enter the National Park and you give your money to the lady in the booth that wears a hat just like Ranger Smith´s in Yogi Bear.



The viewing areas are really well laid out and some have food outlets. I was impressed by the prices being no significant dearer than other places. I went to the Desert View area first but stopped off in the snack bar for breakfast deciding to fix the hole in my stomach before checking out the hole i the ground. The canyon is truly magnificent but then so is a lot of the scenery that I have been through so far.



I´d like to say I scrub up better than this but I don´t. Forget the obstruction, check out the view.


I headed off north at 1.00 pm as I need to be in St George for my tyre tomorrow. I went along 89A which has some fabulous views before ending in Kanab, Utah at the Sand and Sun Motel thanks to MGM´s recommendation. I must admit Wayne, the manager, is quite a character.

Thursday morning didn´t start so well. The SP started but it was really only running on the RH side. It was trying to run on the left but not succeeding. I hit the carby with a stick but that didn´t work. Damn, that usually fixes everything. I had spark on either side and fuel to the bowls. I couldn´t work it out so I suspected bad fuel as I had filled up last thing the previous evening but the RH side was fine so that was really discounted. My thoughts went to the worst, possible broken rings and with no compression there would be no power but I pulled the plugs and did the thumb comnpression test and both seemed about the same.

I changed the plugs and started trying to ride, hoping it would clear itself but it didn´t. I pulled the plugs again and the LH plug was caoted in carbon. I then checked the choke plunger and found that it was stuck open even though the lever was off. I cleared and replaced it and the SP was itself again but I had wasted almost an hour .

I was heading west via UT 9 to get to tyhe bike shop near St George but when I got to 9 it was closed to through traffic so Ihad to retrace my steps 30 miles or so and head west via Arizona. This meant that I didn´t get to the bike shop till 10.45. The tyre they had in my size was a funny looking thing made in Taiwan but the mechanic was a bit busy. I was allowed to pull the wheel off in a storge area to save him time. All up the tyre with fitting and balancing cost me $52 US. If it sticks to the road it will be cheap, if not it wil be expensive but I figured a new Kings Tire is better than an old bald Dunlop.



I headed north on UT 18 and then west on 56 into Nevada. So far the roads have verges but many of them are very soft so beware.




I was heading for Ely, pronounced Eel-Lee. Nevada 93 was fairly straight exept for the northern section. (Note the even numbered northern route that is unusual.) The landscape was flat and scrubby all the way to mountain peaks.




I got into Ely and started looking for the DMV to try and sort out an extension to the SP´s license. I´m not saying that the address system was flawed but both Google maps and the Garmin told me I was crazy and the place didn´t exist. Eventually after several attempts at getting directions I found the office. I didn´t realise that the time was back one hour otherwise I would have been able to try and sort it out but I thought it was closed.

I would like to add that virtually everybody I asked for directions seemed to be put completely out of their depth by the mere fact they needed to think and speak at the same time. It is in stark contrast to other locals I have met and communicated with previously on this trip. The jury is still out on Nevada.

Friday 11th June

I woke just after 5.00 but the internet connection was out. I made the mistake of turning on the TV and watching the weather channel. This then dictates where I tend to go. North west was the best option.

The SP decided not to test my diagnostic skills this morning. It just started straight away and fell into a steady idle despite the cold. It must be in the low 40´s F and I was not enjoying the brisk air. I got to the DMV just before it opened and was the first customer of the day. I couldn´t fully register the SP in Nevada, despite having an address as my insurance policy must state Nevada on the form. Mine is good for the 48 states that include Nevada but it is one of the quirks of the system. Each state is different. The ladies were as helpful as they could possibly be and I got a 15 day extension tacked onto the end of my Ohio 30 day permit. I´m starting to get the hang of this system that makes very little sense so that is a bit of a worry.

I headed north on 93 then 93a. It was cold, vey cold/ Everywhere I looked there seemed to be snow covered peaks.



I turned west on 229 that cut through between 2 ranges. The elevation got up to about 6,500 feet but I really pay that no heed any more unless it gets into double figures. A short run west on the interstate then I headed north on 225. This is a great road with very little traffic. Just north of Wild Horse Reservoir the road twists and turns through a narrow gorge. The Owyee River flows through there and there is a nice little campsite too if so inclined. This road would be a good choice for anyone cutting through Nevada on the way to the National. The surface is good and the close proximity of the hills reverberate the engine noise but take care of fallen rocks.



I stopped off in Mountain City at the motel and steak house. Its basic but under new management so its looking promising despite the rest of the town looking deserted.

I woke to blue skies but the forecast for Yellowstone was poor. An inch of snow today and rain and snow showers for Sunday. I continued north on 225, not that there was much option. There is fuel if required at Duck Valley Indian Reservation but I continued on to Mountain Home.

The local firefighters were collecting money for fireworks so that they would have something to do I guess. I stopped, donated and finally found the locksmith I was searching for but unfortunately I found the only locksmith in the world that shuts Saturday mornings. I have been trying to get a spare set of keys for the bike but without much success. The hardware stores I have encountered never have the correct blanks.



I was in no particular hurry to go anywhere so I ambled east on ID 20 towards Yellowstone if nothing else but as I got closer it became overcast, got colder and the sky looked really ugly in front of me. I headed north-east on 93 to have a look at Craters of the Moon monument.



I must admit that on a cold, grey Idaho day I would have welcomed some fresh volcanic activity just to be able to warm myself. I finished the day quite early at 15.30 in Arco. When I booked into the motel the lady informed me the only reason the town existed was due to the nuclear waste dumps in the desert nearby. I was pleased. I could just see myself saving lots of money on torch batteries by being able to glow in the dark and told her so. She agreed it would be a real advantage.



Where to head for next is the big question. I´ll wait to see what the weather Gods suggest.

Sunday 13 June. Not the best day.

The weather forecast for Yellowstone was still poor so I decided to head north into Montana and enter it from the north on Monday. The map showed and interesting looking road, ID 29 cutting through across the mountains so I decided to head that way. Traveling up ID 28 I came across another painted cattle grid on the road. I had seen them in the US in a lot of places. Cattle conditioned to grids must be fooled by them.



Take a last look at the paint job on the SP as it goes down hill from here.

I turned right onto ID 29 and a silver F150 pulled out straight in front of me. It crossed from my right to left and I tried to avoid it but it just kept coming and bumped me as I was heading for the side of the road. I went down on my RH side in the gravel. He is insured but he not only didn´t see me (look) but he could hardly hear as he didn´t have his hearing aids in!



He came across from right to left. He didn´t see me at all and I tried to avoid him but I ended up sliding in the gravel. The location of the truck is where he stopped. When he first pulled out I tried to avoid him but he swung more left and blocked off my route. Turn signals? What turn signals? Fortunately it was low speed. I had only just come around the corner and was limited by a town speed limit.

The bike suffered some cosmetic damage and I´m a bit sore. Instead of heading on I decided to head to Post Falls Idaho where ´Mountain Bob´ lives. This was also en-route to Moto International where I could get a damage appraisal and the parts I needed to restore the SP to fully roadworthy. Bob´s was 7 hours away and the SP ran fine after I aligned the front end.

This page is getting a bit big and slow to load so if you are interested follow my adventures at:

Part II