Where's Marty Recovery Tour: Saturday January 20

Having trouble getting out of bed again. I am scared that the stuff I got won’t work. It’s a cool, but nice morning. Late, I roll into the breakfast room around 9AM. I should have been up hours ago; don’t you just love those shoulda, coulda, woulda’s?

I start to pack up and realize that I won’t be able to be gone by 11.I call the front desk to tell them.

Food, stove, lantern, utensils, mess kit go in the saddle bags. Clothes, sleeping bag go in the duffle. The tent attaches to the duffle and to the bike. The sleeping pad attaches behind it all. Computer stuff goes in the back pack which then goes up on top. I’m uncomfortable with the load, but don’t see another way that I want to try.

Bungee cord the heck out of it and then test it. I tighten some cords and test again. I think it will hold.

I find the real highway 27, oops guess the other road really wasn’t it. Definitely wasn’t it. This road doesn’t have nearly as many curves and fences telling people to stay out.

I enjoy the ride, pull into the Rocky Springs Campground and see Paul and Wendy’s Motorhome. I pull over to say hi and immediately dump the freakin bike. Not on the left side which was already a little dented, but on the right side. Never happened before, but to be honest, if I am going to dump a bike, it will always be on the right side.

If you are a stranger and reading this, let me explain. I am essentially a one legged motorcycle rider. I have two legs, but the right leg is a tad gimpy and I have been known to use a cane as support. So as a bike rider the rule has to be:
always get the left leg down first
lean to the left so less weight goes on the right leg and
never, and I mean never forget the first two rules.

Paul and Wendy come rushing out to see if I am Ok and help me set my Vulcan up right. I am a little ticked, but figure that I must have forgotten one of the first two rules and try to deal with it.

We eat and chat and I decide to take the camp site across the road from them. I drive through the campground to see who else is around, pull into the site and promptly dump the bike again. I am even more ticked now. I unstrap the load, Paul and Wendy rush over once again and we try to get the bike upright. There is something still pulling it over; Wendy realizes the bungees aren’t all the way loosened.

I set up camp, glad that it is day light now, as the new tent is a little more complicated than the last one.

I decide to ride to clear my head and get rid of the attitude that I have because I have dumped the freakin bike twice.

I ride back to Utica to see if it is really as desolate as I remember. The road that I take has fresh road construction for a few miles that seems to mean, we have dumped fresh gravel on the road, what a rip. It must be the damn day. The town of Utica seems to be as desolate as I remember. I take a couple of pics of the place that Bill and I ate at

(see what I meant about there being no real identifying markings? The second pic is the one of the restaurant.) and leave town via hwy 27 to avoid the fresh gravel. I decide to not enjoy a campfire as I don't have that many clothes and I need to not have everything I own smell like smoke.

On the way back, I take some pics of the surrounding stuff to look at. (I hope that you like tress and great scenery.)

The first pics are of Sand Creek, it is really very sandy on the bottom and near the sides.

And now I know that you might think that these next pics are of the same place, but no--these are of Little Sand Creek. ;)

I like the campground, it really has its redeeming points, lots of animals and neat stuff to look at,

(here's the sparrow that is right outside my tent)

but there is no cell phone reception. I try to call Verizon (I am actually trying to pay my bill so my phone doesn't get cut off) and they say, maybe it's where you are standing. Hell, yes, it's when I am standing anywhere that I can get no reception. I must have walked three miles trying to find some reception. I have driven another 10 miles trying to find some reception.