Back into the Wind Titan's Breath
Trip Start
Sep 03, 2010
1
21
26
Trip End
Oct 05, 2010
Where I stayed
Bozeman, Montana
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Spokane was a rest stop. I strike out on a 400 mile ride to Bozeman, Montana. I have always heard of the beauty of Montana and I am keeping my camera at the ready. The mountains is what I am anticipating. I did not expect those areas where the lack of mountains or the configuration of mountain ranges makes the interstate a windy place.
Interstate 90 eastbound is my home for the day. It stretches across Montana. The traffic was sparse the road worn where the trucks in the right lane have worn a groove. This is a good slot to ride. The groove makes steering lazy. The mountainous curves are great! We keep a good pace, up to 80 m.p.h. The shadows of the mountain curves are still wet. They would be covered with ice well after the rest of the road is dry. Caution is recommended here. I draw good lines through these curves, it was great.
The wind is ever present along some parts. I do what I can. I slow down, keep a steady throttle and tighten my legs on the tank.
I divide my day’s ride in four equal parts. I have a 200 mile gas tank and a 100 mile ass. I plan stops at every 100 miles. This strategy worked well. As I approached my 300 mile stop the Titan showed who was really boss. The Titan begins to show his power. I slow down because the steady wind is strengthened by even stronger gusts. It got so bad I slowed down to 45 M.P.H.and put the flashers on again.
The planned rest stop was coming up. I pulled into the place. It was way off the interstate and served both directions of I-90. I was freaking out again. That damned Titan! This ain’t funny man! Two guys emerging from the men’s room, asked concerned, "You ok man?" I said, did you past me when my flashers were on?” They said, “Yeah, You OK?” I replied “Yeah, It’s that,” pointing to the two flags stretched out in the wind straining to break loose from the staff.
I film the flags and notice a Ninja coming in. I had to ask. “Are you having any problem with the wind?” Yeah, it’s kicking my butt every time I try to raise up. I have had to remain in the aggressive position for too long, I need to stretch.” He looked at Bonnie and said that she has a higher profile. He offered,"I used to have an ST. The wind would kill me.”
I got my wind and courage up and re-mounted. As I did I noticed the flags were not as strained. The Titan was just making a point. I led Bonnie back out onto the interstate. The wind had slowed. I was still skeptical. I proceed with care and caution. I noticed I could go faster. I went faster ever so cautiously.
The road went into the mountains. As we climbed up I heard the distinct sound of a sports bike winding loudly. I glanced to my left in time to see a sports bike whiz by. He was haulin’ ass! I guess there’s no wind to encumber the young man. As the road descended the Titan grew still. I fed Bonnie her fuel and air and she smoothly went up to her cruising speed. It felt great to ride again without ducking behind the windshield. We flew, about 80 miles to the hotel, so Bonnie glided at 85 m.p.h.. We kept this pace up until we got to our destination.
Navi sent us to the right address, but the address was not right. I pulled into a large new church where a gentleman was attending the grounds. He directed me to go further. Bozemen was new and beautiful. I dismounted and staggered inside guzzling the remains of my water from the $70.00 motorcycle mug. The Titan tried to take it of of me today, 400 miles was a long day.
Later I researched wind and motorcycles. It was as expected. I did what everybody else did. Get in the middle of the lane, throttle back and keep it steady against the wind, lean if you have to, and pray. I checked the National Weather Service website and my next destination were forecasted to have 33 m.p.h. wind with gusts up to 41. This was not good. I went into a panic mode and sought help.
I emailed my local Goldwing club member back in Georgia. He sent back alternate routes to my next destination. I talked to the "Housman of the hotel." His name is Don. He was cool. He rode a Harley and he gave good advice. I was in a valley. The wind was quieter here in Gallatin Valley. When I crossed through the mountain range the Titan could not reach us here. Don was fascinated at the bells and whistles on Bonnie. I am grateful to look into the eyes of another biker and he understands.
I called the G.W.R.R.A. member living and riding in Titan’s breath. He agreed that the wind would be lower tomorrow. He also offered the words my blood pressure needed to hear, "It’ll be alright. It picks up in the mid–day, you will be past it before then.”
Comments
Be careful on your return home.
Thanks, I will.
Hey cuz, you are my hero!