Baahstan trip, Day One, Wednesday August 30th

This tale actually started the day before. Tuesday night, I was a mess. My house was a mess, my yard was a mess (more on this later if I remember to rant), my clothes were a mess, everything. And best of all, I didn't get into bed until about 0300 AM. That's three in the morning and I was still up.

I awoke to my Ninja alarm tone on my phone at 0730 and rushed to work. I wanted to clear up about a million dollars worth of invoices that were going to pay interest in the following next few days. I rushed about like a lunatic and left around 0930. I zipped back home and prepared for my nightmare, I mean VACATION. Vacation... yeah...

Shane was my traveling companion (I could have picked a pit bull, but who wants a companion with a sunny disposition by way of comparison?). Shane was driving a Mustang of somewhat recent vintage (1999?) and I would be following him into NY where he go into NYC and pick up my brother's girlfriend and drive her up to see him and I'd just head straight on through. Yup. That was the plan.

(A bit of a confession. When starting this trip, I had more than a little bit of hesitation. In fact, I was seriously questioning my sanity for even thinking about it. I mean, me on my Kawasaki Ninja 250 on a 2000 mile round trip. And me only riding this bike since April and only getting a little over 2K on the odo. Can someone think of a dumber idea? Maybe if I had jock itch too?)

So after 10 false starts, going back into the house two or three times and listening to Shane whine like a little bitch about me holding us up, I donned my helmet and off we headed out East on I-70.

The first bit of bad news happened on the ramp from I-465 to I-70. It's a two-lane, elevated overpass that's banked pretty steep. I realized that I'd never been on it before on the Ninja. And I had the luck to find an eighteen-wheeler on my right and another behind. I leaned into the turn at 50 MPH or so and felt the sensation of my tires sliding out from under. Which would lead me right UNDER the semi's tires. I think I came fairly close to making it a self-fulfilling prophecy in my fright. So we were off to a bad start, you could say.

That sort of panic has never happened to me before and I really hope it never reoccurs. I honestly don't know if it was a dangerous situation or my head was just messing with me. I would like to say the former, but I WAS exhausted and nervous besides. I think I'm going to hit that ramp again in light traffic just to see if I'm nuts or not

I cranked the throttle and followed Shane. We rode for a bit before I noticed that my left saddlebag's rain cover was flapping like mad in the wind. I signaled for Shane to take the next exit. I saw my right saddlebag's rain cover was gone. And the left's had already burned on the tailpipe, even though I thought I'd lifted them high enough. Live and learn the hard way, as always.

I think it was at this point that I realized I'd forgotten my ever-stylish Moo-Cow sheepskin buttpad. A bird had crapped on it a few days earlier and I took it off the bike for a quick wash the night before. So of course, I left it at home. More good news.

Riding on, I found that the wind was not a problem at 60 (as indicated on my Ninja, subtract around 10% for approx. accurate speeds). 70 was pretty hard to deal with and 80 made the wind a total bitch to wrestle with. So I tried to keep it around 70, except to pass the rigs.

We putted along for a good while on into Ohio and stopped in Springfield for lunch and gas. We ate at an Italian pizza and sub shop. My aim while on vacation was to avoid chains as much as possible. Oddly, my lunch came up to $7.77, which is Steve Vai's favorite number. So I thought it might be good luck, even though I really don't believe too much in luck. Mostly since mine is always bad.

Shane sat and blogged on his Star Trek phone/PC/microwave/transmogrifier while eating. I personally wouldn't own a phone that costs that much. It's just begging to have me do something stupid like drop it in the ocean.

After lunch, we topped off our tanks and I noticed that Shane's car was leaking gasoline. As in a LOT of gasoline. He was leaving a visible trail on the street. I thought I'd been smelling gas the whole trip. I hate being right. He later told me that it only leaked when you filled it to the top. Little did he know it leaked even some time after topping off. I kept picturing him hitting a pothole, his chassis sparking and me getting hit with flaming debris. Amusing, but possibly dangerous. Nothing I could do at that point, though.

The sky soon greyed up and I worried about rain. I wore jeans and had rain pants to cover them.

But I still didn't want to play in the water sports. Luckily, God kindly answered my fervent pleas for no rain. That was really cool, but I'm sure it was a complete coincidence.

We kept on, not stopping too much. But Shane kept bitching about taking too long to get anywhere. What the hell did he expect? I told him before we left I would need to break at least every hour and a half or so. I'm pretty sure we went over two hours more than once, much to my ass's dismay.

We did recieve a nice surprise. CHEAP GAS! It was $2.39 or so in Ohio. With my five gallon tank, I must have saved... like... a dollar.

Somewhere in Ohio, I had a rude awakening. I was passing a semi at 90 indicated to keep up with Shane. As I came around the semi's cab, I was hit by a blast of wind that almost sent me right off of the road. It was a true "HOLY SHIT" moment to say the very least. Luckily, I only went into the breakdown lane a tiny bit and recovered quickly. Another tough lesson learned!

We cut through Ohio on into West Virginia for about 5 minutes, some of which was spent in a series of tunnels. They are quite freaky actually. I felt as though the tunnel was trying to hypnotize me. But that was over soon enough and we kept on through PA onto the PA Turnpike. I saw lots of Steelers stickers and assorted fan crap on various vehicles, thinking "Fuck Pittsburg" every time I saw them. (Nope, not bitter about the playoffs. Nope, nope, nope.)

It was some time into Pennsylvania that I started to really feel the cold. It sapped my strength , leaving me sleepy at 70MPH. I actually started nodding off at one point. Not a good thing. It was around this time that I lost Shane. I said "whatever" to myself, seeing no point in panicking about it. While riding along, I saw his 'Stang on the side of the road. I didn't slow down and he followed me to a service area some miles ahead.

There he told me that he had pulled over so we could stop for the night. Of course, you can't turn around on the pike. No, that would be too easy. Since we were there at the service area I bought a crappy burger for dinner and tried to warm myself up a bit. We trudged on to the next lodging exit at Bedford, PA. Not too far short of halfway to our final destination.

We got off the Pike and checked in. I took a shower and put on my shorts to join Shane at the hot tub. For some stupid reason, I thought a dip in the pool might loosen up my body. So I swam for a bit and then hopped in the hot tub. We didn't stay too long though.

I should have stayed a lot longer. My belly, crotch and legs were still very cold. I bundled up under the blankets, but couldn't get warm. I also realized I'd forgotten my toothbrush and paste. More good news! Shane watched poker on ESPN (since when is poker a SPORT?) and then crashed. I still couldn't get warm. I started to worry a bit. But to make matters worse, I couldn't sleep with all of the traffic from the interstate. I was soon up past three for two nights in a row. I began to wonder if I would live through this trip and somewhere after that, fell asleep.