3500 Miles on the R1 Tourer By: Kurt von Ahnen
It was the same as any other assignment. Get to the track, hob knob the best you can, and come back with pictures and content rivaling the best of magazines. Well I figured I at least beat some of those media sissies by riding our 2002 Yamaha R1 to the event. We’re in Denver, and the final AMA roadrace of the year was at the gloriously new Barber Motorsports Park, Birmingham Alabama. We have a full set of Oxford luggage just dying to be really tested, a set of Avon ST 45/46 Sport Touring tires to wear out, and I lost 20 pounds enabling me to once again don the custom Bloodnickel Queensryche leathers. The event was scheduled for the distance to be about 1400 miles Wednesday the 17th. Tuesday, I had and packed the luggage. Wednesday to visit Flatirons Community Church together. If you’re leaving for a 3000 never a bad idea . With a pat on I was off and wheelying my way toward the highway.
September 19-21, 2003. I figured one way, so I decided to leave on the tires installed, serviced the bike I woke up at 4:45am, giving me time for the Men’s Fraternity getmile road trip, a stop at church is the back from my church members,
Shameless Self Plug from when I used to be fast. I received a warm reception from the Salina Kansas Harley-Davidson dealer.
It was planned as a really boring trip actually. Just head out on I70 and turn right when you get to Illinois. This time I had the entire luggage full and my laptop in a back pack to wear the whole way. It seemed a bit much at first, but I got used to it. With the tank bag full it made a good chest pillow, and the back pegs were where I dangled my feet. The exhaust on the right side obstructed my ability to stabilize the right leg securely… this is cured by wicking the bike up to about 100MPH and letting the wind hold up my leg. Funny, a speeding ticket didn’t even seem to be a concern. People were really flying this week on the highway – heck even Highway Patrol cars were passing me and waving in Kansas. Before I knew it I was in Kansas City, on the east side of Kansas. Kansas is an odd state. According to their signs, they have an unusually high per capita ratio of astronauts. They have the world’s largest prairie dog, and a 6-legged cow, and although they seem a bit out of the Bible belt… they have a bunch of faith based signage on the road – particularly about abortion. It was hard to concentrate on the signs though… because the wind was blowing so hard. Yes… Those are Camels. It was like the scene in Jurassic Park… I looked over and there was a field full of camels! At one point between Colby Kansas and Salina Kansas, I teamed up with a couple of Harley-Davidson riders. I stationed myself at the back so that if I saw their huge, heavy, American twins shudder a bit in the wind I knew I was heading into a gust. At least three separate times I literally felt the front tire begin to slide out from under me, as I fought into the Northerly breeze. One respite was the fact that most new Harley-Davidson dealers are right off the highway. No matter what you ride, they are hospitable and a good source to stop for water or to stretch your legs. The next state to come under my attack was Missouri. Now that I am heading straight into the Bible belt, I am being assaulted with one Adult Club sign after another. If you have a porn addiction, you may want to take the southern route to Alabama, and skip on by Missouri. After I had crested 800 miles on the odometer, I thought it would be smart to look for a hotel. Super Eight was right off the highway, outside
of Saint Louis and shared a parking spot with the Iron Skillet (Highly Recommended). By the time I had showered and ate it was touching 1:00AM Thursday. The morning brought in another temperate day. Warm temperature and clear skies would make for another winning day of riding. I have to admit though that by this time my butt is wondering why I ride an R1. I slapped in the headphones and took off down I70 again. It’s been a few years since I have driven through Saint Louis, and honestly… I was not looking forward to this upcoming experiment in Metropolitan Automotive Lunacy. To my surprise, the highway has been restored. Although there was still some construction, the Missouri Department of Transportation routed traffic appropriately and efficiently. Once again I was taken back at the average speed of the drivers. As I kept with the flow of traffic, I noted we were generally above 75MPH most of the time. Here comes the Arch. For some reason, I always allow the Arch by the river distract me. Sure, I need pictures for the article… but in truth, I stop at the Arch anyway. I am amazed at the size of this creation and how it dwarfs so many other monuments. If you’ve never stood under it than it’s just a bended, metal looking piece of junk. If you’ve seen it in person, you have respect for its concept and completion. Growth – is how I would describe this urban area. Similar to the other main metropolitan cities in our country, Saint Louis has grown into an attractive, mainstream location. The
Don’t fall for the signs on the highway. This is not a motorcycle shop.
first time I stopped at the Arch in 1987, I was scared – now there are secretaries and business people hiking and jogging through the downtown area. The waterfront has become a place to relax rather than be knocked unconscious. Of course Saint Louis is at the very edge of Missouri on the East side, so Illinois was next. Time came to make that right-hand turn.
The map showed me traveling through Kentucky then on to Tennessee and finally into Alabama. I decided to stop at Mount Vernon for lunch at Fazolis. It had a convenient location, and was right across the street from another friendly Harley-Davidson dealer. Even the Harley guys have respect for you if you’re willing to strap yourself to an R1 for so many miles. People in Mount Vernon came out of the woodwork to look at the bike and shoot the breeze. It would be my guess that sportbike sales aren’t so great there. One gentleman in particular took an interest in where I was going and let me in on all the favorite speed trap locations… you gotta love that! As I blazed into Kentucky, I was awestruck at some of the property there. There was huge plantation looking homes with white fences, dotted with horses or cattle. It was like looking into a history book from Grade School again. Not a whole lot to report here other than the apparent fascination Kentucky has with Corvettes. I must’ve ridden with 20 different Corvettes through that state, and I wasn’t even close to Bowling Green yet. The day was passing by, and I was beginning to feel the exhaustion half way through Tennessee. I hate the thoughts I have when I get overtired on the bike. I could see how dense the vegetation was on the side of the road and thought “That’s why the snipers work here – they have great cover”. Then I started to wonder what a great target I would make in my Black and Yellow leathers, at 90 MPH. I was due to see something different. Where are the camel farms like Kansas has? Different? How about Chattanooga? I tried to follow the directions, I really did. It’s just that the highway there doesn’t make any sense. The directions said to stay on the highway, but then the road split. I certainly didn’t want to exit so I changed lanes to the left. Next thing I know, I am on a different highway heading straight into downtown Chattanooga. No big deal right? Well a half hour later I manage to find my way back to the original highway. I take off South again, and the road splits. “Got me once shame on you”, I stay to the right. The road makes a sudden jolt to the right and comes to a stop light. Damn! Got me again.
A short spell later and I was crossing into Alabama, past the rocket. Highway 65 south had a lot of construction, and it was about now that I had wished people would slow down a bit. There were merging lanes, ended lanes, shifting lanes and a slew of knocked over construction barrels, telling me people don’t drive so well here. I was frantically trying to avoid cars wandering out of their lanes and read the MSN directions at the same time. Of course the exit I needed was closed, leading me to 4 th street. Why do I always exit at night in the worst parts of town. I stopped in a pile of broken glass to get my bearings, and figure out where to go next. I re-entered 65 North and doubled back to the correct exit. The directions said to take the 126 exit bearing right toward 31 south. Well, 31 south beared left so I only had a 50/50 chance of going the right way. Half an hour later, I was back on 65 South heading toward the closed exit ramp and the dreaded 4th avenue exit. By the time I got to the Drury Inn of Birmingham… I was exhausted, grumpy and hungry as heck. I checked the clock that read 1497 miles. Almost 100 miles worth of being lost… at least that puts me less than 10 % in error. Anthony checked me in, and the Drury Inn of Birmingham became home for the next four days. TGI Fridays was right across the street, and this is where I met my first officer of the weekend. Birmingham has an overall charm. Everyone introduced themselves to me and made me feel welcome in their town. Larry Greenberg, an off duty officer working security at the restaurant, engaged me in a lengthy conversation regarding the heritage and culture of Birmingham. In all, I’d say short of the humidity… it’s no wonder the Corona Suzuki guys call Birmingham home. Their metro area has a lot to
offer as well. They have a booming night life in the University Avenue area, The Civil Rights museum and a good blend of business. Next to the rocket was a Vietnam Vet Memorial for the State Of Alabama. A sober reminder of current and past times. A summary of our time at the track is covered in other articles, for the magazine. Let me just say that the rain from Sunday’s event came back with a vengeance on Monday morning. The rain was driving hard enough to lessen visibility considerably. I mentally prepared to follow the rain to Colorado, as the weather channel wasn’t leaving me with much hope. Odd thing is… when you have the gear you almost feel invincible on the machine, battling the elements. A hundred miles later, that ol’ rain lightened up a bit. For the rest of the day, the rain would come and go in spurts. I stopped on my way out of Alabama to grab some pictures of the rocket and the Veterans Memorial, then plowed on North toward Tennessee. I so love getting on the highway with the R1 pointed at the sky. After 4 days, I still had a hard time believing how hard the R1 could accelerate on 93 Octane and a humid – humid sea level.
Tennessee was next and I was dreading the run into Chattanooga. God heard my plight and led me around the city. Well, I don’t know if it was there or not… but I missed a turn somewhere and started
seeing signs for the Corvette Museum in Bowling Green Kentucky. The Corvette Museum was not a point of interest on the way to the track so I stopped – what the heck. Continuing north out of Bowling Green, I began to see my direction was actually leading me to Louisville. I had never been there so onward I went. I got there at sunset and the view was absolutely breathtaking. The colors of the sunset were vibrant and magnified reflected off the gleam of the Ohio River. The silhouettes of the bridges against the city scape completed the postcard setting. Tried as I may, I could not find a safe place to pull over for the picture. (and my wife will be the first to say I am pretty reckless about pulling over) As the sun set I crossed into Indiana? Uh oh, how far did I go? I was supposed to come up closer to Saint Louis – not Philadelphia! Time to get a room.
A Midwest Sunset Tuesday I was off like a shot. I plowed through Illinois and plodded through the traffic in Saint Louis, and then started looking for food again. The only highlight of the trip so far was Illinois plate TRIXIE5. It seems she is a naturalist, and insists on driving topless. Just when it crosses your mind that that’s the craziest thing… a guy in a Saturn, with Virginia plates passes me and flips me off. I pull up next to him and he gestures like there’s a gun under the seat, and he’s going to shoot me. I take off like a shot, and pull off the next exit to load my tank bag up with rocks. I figure if I run into him again… it’ll be hard to see through a smashed windshield. We were nearing Kansas, so I thought for sure I’d see an officer to report it to. Kansas has a lot of troopers… but alas the old “where are they when you need them?” question was at the forefront.
I decided to push myself to Hays, Kansas. Half-tempted to just go the extra 400 miles home, I leaned toward common sense and got a room. It was the Comfort Inn and they had a hot tub! Woohoo! After breakfast and a quick loosening up in the tub, I donned the leather again for the final leg. I stepped out to load the bike and the wind was fierce – just like last week. Is it always like this? Of course the wind gusted southerly this time, so I am still feathering the right side of the tires. The wind persisted to Kanorado Kansas, and the sign welcoming me to Colorado was right behind that. Another couple hundred miles and I would have this trip in my back pocket. Since I was home again, and the points would count, I tried to ride a bit more conservatively. As I crept along at 80MPH folks kept eating me up. Finally, when a spoiled young lady passed me in a Beemer Convertible I wicked it back up. After days of self contorsion abuse I was crossing the Denver line. It was then and only then that the discomfort turned to pain. I was about 30 miles from home and it was time to park this barge. I had one more gas stop left, and combined that with a long stretching session. 45 Minutes later, I was in my driveway. DONE! I showered, went to my wife’s work to grab a bite to eat with her, and then back to where I started – Flatirons Community Church. 3500 Miles, no injuries, no tickets and great content from the track… that deserves a visit and a thank you. Product Reviews? The Avons now have about 4700 Miles of R1 torture laid into them, and they are about 60% gone. Even though they seem to be lasting a long time, they have plenty of traction for wheelies and in the rain. The only caution I issue with these is to lay off the stoppies. The front skitters under that extreme type of braking. The luggage? I am still in love with the Oxford luggage and how well it protects the finish on the bike, with the implementation of the Oxford blanket. I packed for a week away from home, and still haven’t had to expand the compartments on the setup. The Lockhart Carbon Fiber mirrors while I have become somewhat used to them, are a disadvantage to stock when the bike is loaded. The way they mount to the R1 looks cool, but limits visibility – and I am a mirror using freak!