European Motorcycle of Western Oregon: Runkle's 6k Service

There are a few things about owning a BMW that make me cringe.  One is the Charlie and Ewan references (and I LOVE Ewan.  I would travel across the WORLD to hook up with him....I mean to go on a ride...I mean, a motorcycle ride with him.) The second, most terrible thing in the entire BMW universe, is SERVICE TIME.  I mean, really, why IS it so expensive?  Geez.  I keep telling myself, "If you bitch about the price of service and maintenance, clearly you shouldn't own that particular bike.  Get yourself a nice KLR and live on the cheap!"  I should.  I totally should.  But I never will.  I mean, there's always the chance of Ewan driving through town and stopping me simply because I'm on a BMW.  Riiggghhht.

So Runkle needed his 6K service (I think I'm ringing in around 6480 but who's counting) and since I moved to Eugene, I had no choice but to try out a new shop, European Motorcycles of Western Oregon (http://www.emcwor.com/).  I bought my bike at BMW Motorcycles of Western Oregon, which is reportedly owned by the same chaps who own the Eugene store.  But, get this, it appears as though EVERYTHING IS SEPARATE.  Which, really, makes sense.  Until you have an issue.

When I bought Runkle he had a minor paint chip on the tank.  No big deal.  They (BMWOR, TIGARD) were going to fix it during my 600 mile service.  But they didn't.  So, they said they would catch it on the 6K.  Well, 6K happened and I was in Eugene.  No problem, right?  Same company.  Life is never that easy.  The service department in Eugene (David) did a good job of communicating what they wanted to do...which was to send the bike away for 3-4 days to get the spot repainted and blended.  Great.  Unless I want to ride.  I decided it wasn't worth the down time when it's just a tiny chip, and inquired about just getting a discount or something on merchandise or the service I needed.  Um, yeah, sure.  That's a possibility.  If I, operative word, I, call Tigard and chat with them.  Oh and I'd have to purchase whatever it was at the Tigard shop.  In Portland.  Two hours away.  Sweet Baby Jesus, what a pain in the arse.

Long boring story short, I'm getting a discount on tires, which Mr. McHotMoto, my Portland pal, explains,  means I'm getting them at internet prices.  Very uplifting.  (Looks like there's a discount to be had here, anyway...if you are in the Eugene area, check this out:  http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Redline-Headlines----Spring-is-in-the-air-.html?soid=1104746721083&aid=-8X6046JxjE)

For my issue, BMW of Tigard says they will pay the mounting/install fees, which reportedly run around $50 a tire.  Well, that's all dandy grandy.

Both stores could have told me to pound sand, but instead they were friendly, cooperative, and willing to go the extra mile (once I spoke to the right person in the right store).   So, I am giving them a thumbs up.

My major complaint from today (and you knew there would be one) is that today was DRY.  Not a raindrop in the sky until I was heading over to pick up the bike.   On the way home, it rained so much I had water dripping down my .... oh never mind.  You'd think I would have been prepared and brought the lining of my jacket?  Um, no.   Maybe it was my "sweet baby Jesus" comment???  Naw, it was raining before that.

Be safe.

FYI:   My service ran about $370 (minus the oil change).

I rode because the birds said to. No, I'm not crazy. Not much.

Friday we had a break in the clouds in Eugene, OR.  This was actually the second (and reportedly last) day of sunshine for awhile so I did what any self respecting rider would do...I rode.  I rode to work and noted the blue skies in Lowell and the fog and gloom in town.  I parked the bike at work, a little cold but still harboring high hopes for the day.  Each time I walked outside I saw Runkle sitting all alone, the sun making the paint glisten and the longing in my heart becoming intense.  Finally, I couldn't take any more.

That's BLUE sky behind me!!!!

Around 1:00 PM the birds were singing to me, "Ride! Ride! Ride!"  I'm sure it wasn't my imagination...normally the voices in my head say other things like,  "Don't cut him" and "He's so precious!"   So I did what any self respecting, voice hearing chick who rides a motorcycle would do...I rode!!!

I geared up and took off.  I was rewarded with an awesome ride...home.  Geez, working for a living bites!!!!   Of course, my patience and kindness to the Universe (shut up naysayers) paid off and I was able to take off early and hit the road again!!!  (Tomorrow I will be typing like a fool making up time but trust me, it was worth it!)

Ya'll remember I grew up around here?  Well, I moved away in 1998 and haven't been back.  In fact, I am not sure what I'm doing here now.  Anyway, I don't know where to ride so when someone suggested Camp Creek Road I figured, "Why not?"  From Springfield I followed a Squid (Stupid Quick and Dead) bike to Marcola Road and rode the 8.7 miles of curvy goodness to the town of Walterville.  Walterville is not impressive and in fact, makes Lowell look like a bustling metropolis.  From Walterville, it was back on Camp Creek Road as I tried to keep up with the Squid with more experience and more courage (and maybe less of a concern about crashing because I KNOW his front wheel came off the pavement at least twice).  We hopped over to McKenzie View Drive and rode into town.  Camp Creek Road and McKenzie View Drive are both excellent little jaunts that don't take very long but are very rewarding.  Twists, turns, and a great stretch along the river. WIN WIN.  Of course, the ride home was a bit of a drag...rush hour traffic on main roads...BLAH BLAH.   The Squid and I parted ways before I hit the freeway and as he rode away I couldn't help but hear the voice in my head, "He's so precious! I wonder if he has a dog!!!"  Thanks Squid, for the great ride! Maybe I'll run into you again...

At home, I had just enough time to change clothes and to kiss Trout goodbye (why, yes, she was a little pissed off) as I rushed off to a friend's house for a BONFIRE and a birthday party!  You got it!! The first bonfire of the season and we NEEDED it.  The darkness had caused a severe drop in temperatures and as we all sipped (not gulped) our beverages (you know, soda, limeade and the sort), we huddled near the fire and ate pulled pork sandwiches.  Everything was groovy, even when (or especially because) we convinced Brad to jump over the fire.  (Warning:  Kids do not try this.  It's not funny at all. Really.)

Unfortunately, all good days must come to an end just as the sun must set.

This wasn't just a good day...it was awesome.  It had everything a moto chick could ask for:  Lots of laughter, good friends, awesome food, and motorcycles.

I think I may start listening to the birds more often.

Me:  "What's that?"
Birds:  "You should have a margarita."
Me:  "Well, if you say so."

Well, you heard the birds.

Bridges, Bikes and Boys!

Just got back from a small ride around Fall Creek/Lowell.  There's a steak on the barbie and I'm ready for a margarita to toast my blessings.  Thought it would be fun to check out some of those places I haven't seen since I moved away...and geez how 20 years have changed things.  Covered bridges that were closed back in the day have been restored...but the paint hasn't taken away those memories from long ago.

There were big bridges....

Pengra Bridge

Unity Bridge, near the world famous Fall Creek Tavern (ok it's not famous).

And little bridges....

One of two small bridges...um..why are there tiny bridges??

Lookout Point

I stopped by Lookout Point, where "back in the day" (sucks I'm now old enough to say that) many a night we ended up and did some things I don't think you should know about.   I took some photos of Runkle and saw a boy (who I will call Muddy Cute Dude) who had just finished a mountain bike ride.  His face was mud splashed (duh) and his smile was wide.  We started talking and I'm so totally sure that he fell in love with me (or maybe it was the bike?).  He showed me his bike and I showed him mine (sounds a little dirty, eah? They were!).  His has fancy 20 inch wheels and a frame that weighs 18 pounds!  My side bag is more than that!!!  When we parted ways I felt a bit of sadness, considering what may have been.  That's the great thing about being single...there's always a chance for "what may have been".  And of course, that's always better in my mind!

I stopped at my old high school to take some photos and as I was getting back on the bike, Muddy Cute Dude (MCD) drove by in his truck and honked...and I am sure, just so totally sure, that had I jumped on my bike and chased him down he would have asked for my number (or more likely called the police).

I then rode to my Dad's house, where he had to point out the four bikes in his garage were "real" bikes and the BMW (Runkle) in the driveway was not.  Now why did I move home again???  I asked him how he liked the trip to Texas last summer on his bike and he was reminded his bike didn't leave town.  Aww, it's the little things.

Bikes in Dad's garage...the one on the table is a custom job by my Dad...

It's supposed to rain again tomorrow and all through the weekend.  March will soon fade away and before we know it, summer will be covering us with sunshine.  Get ready, people, it's almost time to RIDE!!!

(And you know I'm going to be riding to Lookout Point looking for MCD and his bike...)   Stalk much?

Happy Birthday, Runkle!!!

Runkle enjoying one of the many covered bridges around Lowell, OR

Have you heard the news?  Gas prices are going through the SKY!  Heading to the MOON!!!! RUN!  RUN!!  ARGGG!!! The TERROR!!!

Whatever. I'm not worried.  I've got a backup plan: my BMW G650 GS (aka Runkle).   I scored Runkle a year ago from BMW Motorcycles of Western Oregon (http://www.bmwor.com/).  We've been pretty close since we hooked up, although this year we are hoping to do more, go more, see more.   Last year we went to Texas and this year we are hoping to do something equally exciting...but I'm not sure how much time we'll have together for extended periods.  May have to make due with long weekends and one week long camping trip.  First, Runkle needs a tune up...and since I'm in Eugene now, we're going to head on over to BMW Motorcycles of Western Oregon's sister company,
European Motorcycles of Western Oregon (http://www.emcwor.com/).

Runkle gets great gas mileage and Runkle carries a big load...especially with my Giant Loop (http://www.giantloopmoto.com/products/great-basin-dry-bag) dry bag on the back.  Seriously, this bag is awesome.  It is just the right size for my camping pad and my tent.  I'm sure I could get more into it, but I travel with a two man tent...and a fluffy camping pad...comfort is my top priority.  Comfort and keeping my stuff dry... which the dry bag and tank bag really do.  It's a nice change to actually have some gear that does what it claims.

Runkle at Valley of Fires Recreation Area, near Rosewell, NM 

Most the time I don't need to carry a big load and instead my awesome Giant Loop tank bag (http://www.giantloopmoto.com/collections/giant-loop-gear-collection/products/fandango-tank-bag) provides me more than enough room.  I LOVE LOVE the map pocket and the fact that it keeps things dry because there is a zipper on the inside to keep the map secure.  And, guess what?  My personal protection device (aka Glock) fits snuggly inside as well.

Giant Loop tank bag...one sweet bag!!!

My year with Runkle wouldn't have been complete without the goods I was sporting from Giant Loop.  Bonus:  they are an Oregon company...in Bend....and these guys know their riding.  They've actually got an awesome BMW G800GS that makes me jealous every time I see it.

Runkle hanging out at Big Fall Creek, OR

This last year wouldn't have been as swell without my Aerostich AD-1 pants (http://www.aerostich.com/ad1-motorcycle-pants.html).  I wore these pants in 109 degree temperatures and through storms that would have made a lesser bike stop and wait it out.   Not once was I disappointed...I love these pants like I love my dog.  (And I really LOVE my dog!)

Near Lake Powell...with the blue ribbon from the 2011 Kilcullen Memorial Ride.   

My shameless plugs are a way for me to say "THANK YOU" to those who supported Runkle and I through the last year.  Giant Loop, Aerostich, and BMW Motorcycles of Western Oregon all helped make my first year with Runkle be one of my best.

Here's to many more wonderful years together.  Happy Birthday, Runkle!!!!

Ride Log 14: Texas: Day 13

Current location:  HOME
Total distance traveled:  4145 miles

I woke up in Ontario, OR (which is good since that's where I went to sleep) and realized the room was dirtier than I thought. I have allergies to dust mites as well as to various plants, so I was sniffling nonstop.   In a rush to get out of there I showered at warp speed and threw on my dirty clothes from the day before (my socks almost walked out by themselves).  I loaded up the bike and hit the road around 8:00 AM.  My first stop was the Love's fueling station for a little breakfast (I know how to live!) and some ice.  There was ice for my camelback at the hotel but I wasn't willing to risk it.

At the gas station I met a nice guy and his wife who were riding two up on a Harley, just returning from Sturgis.  They were very proud of their trip and about Sturgis in general.  How precious.  They didn't ask if I was alone (so maybe people from the West coast are more observant?  I'd been asked the day before about ten times if I was alone, followed by the standard, "Oh you are brave!"  As if there are wild people all over the country waiting to find a lone female rider and do unspeakable things. See, my paranoia has limits.)

Preferable over the Budget Inn?

I took Hwy 20 from Ontario toward Burns.  Burns will fool ya.  Don't get gas at the first place you see, instead go into Hines (about a mile away) where they actually have gas stations that have new pumps.  I had to wait for the attendant to manually add up the purchase before mine and hand write a receipt.  Imagine my dismay when around the bend I see gas stations that actually have the ability to take a credit card.  Damn it.  I also found another place to sleep along the route, which would have probably been better than the one I chose (look left).

From Burns I rode toward Christmas Valley on US 395.  This is where Hank (GPS) started getting all stupid.  For awhile he told me I was on an unpaved road (good for me, finally Runkle sees something besides asphalt) and then he stopped working all together, telling me to take non existant roads to nowhere and then politely telling me to turn around and head back the way I'd come.  After that the power kept flashing off and on.  If there is one place you need a GPS to work, it's in the middle of nowhere, which I can safely say is where 395 is located.   This was a cool stretch of road but is open range (like most of the smaller roads I'd traveled on during the trip).  Of course, in Oregon when they say "open range" the cattle are so smart they can read and they actually take to the roads.  I had some great photos of this, but my expensive camera died the day before (thanks Nikon).

There was one point where I was worried about my safety as I slowly pulled up to a herd in the road.  I wasn't that frightened, having passed some earlier..until I saw the largest arse ever.  I stopped behind it about 20 feet and when the animal turned it's head it was a bull (hence the large part) with horns that could have gone right through the bike.  It looked at me and I could tell by the way it's eyes were glaring that this was not a good time to remind him about all the beef I'd consumed in Texas.  The ribs I had left in my camelback (kept cold by the ice) were pork so at least I had that going for me.  I wasn't sure if I should go by quickly, slowly, or at all.  Since he didn't seem to have any intention of moving I started to slowly ride by when the bull on the side of the road started heading onto the tarmac.  I was essentially riding between two animals that could have crushed me on accident and my paranoia, kept at bay briefly, sprung a leak and I was mentally watching them "horn" me to death.  I could think of worse ways to go, especially since my diet of beef was probably going to kill me eventually anyway.

I eased my way into LaPine around 1:00 PM and stopped at the Taco Bell for lunch.  I was going to transport it back to the house and eat while relaxing on the deck so I needed a Pepsi to compliment this gourmet meal.  I don't have a cup holder (want one, dork gage just hit the red) and trying to get the Pepsi back to the house in one piece gave all the locals something to laugh about.  I made it, though, and pulled into the driveway full of awe that I'd made it that far (to and back from Texas, not due to the Pepsi, although I'd say that really was a Pepsi Challenge.  hahahah  Okay, I'll stop)

Once there I thought about Trout who in my mind was alone and sad because I wasn't there.  I got back on the bike and hit the road again, heading toward my final destination of Aurora, OR and home.  On Highway 97 through Bend then onto Highway 22 toward Salem I rode 55-60 mph which seemed slow after my previous day of 75-80 mph. I marveled at how the mountains in Oregon still have snow, how the sun seemed to shine brighter (but not be that hot) and how a familiar road gives you a sense of contentment.

The view from Bend, OR to Sisters, OR

The last 100 miles of my trip were the most challenging.  Perhaps it is because they were miles I've done a million times, perhaps because I had to use the rest room but didn't want to take the time to stop, or perhaps because I knew I was nearing the end of my journey.  Whatever the reason, my arse felt like someone had paddled it relentlessly over the last thousand miles and no movement on the seat was making things better.  I moved up and back and sat straight and slouched.  I leaned and even tried to just take my mind off it by imagining what I was going to eat for dinner (exciting, eah?)  Nothing worked.  Near the last ten miles from Woodburn to my exit I felt relief wash over me as I counted down the miles and told myself I'd already gone over 4,000 miles, ten more would not hurt.

Pulling into my driveway I checked the GPS and saw I'd ridden 4,145 miles over the last two weeks.  Others have ridden farther, ridden faster and ridden better.  The sun was shining, my plants were all alive and the garden was tended (thanks to my landlord and neighbor!).  I threw on a pair of shorts and flip flops and jumped in the car without even unloading the bike, anxious to pick up Trout before my motivation failed.  I drove the thirty minutes and picked her up.  She licked me and jumped up to kiss me repeatedly (not a good trick to show a dog when you have friends who are shorter than you).  When I opened the front door she ran out and jumped right in the car, tail wagging and eyes glistening (maybe I imagined that glistening).

Trout at "pick up" time.  She jumped in and wouldn't get out!  

 It was then I realized that over the last 4,145 miles I'd traveled, there were so many beautiful things I'd seen; so many mountains and drylands, waterways and freeways.  But the one view I would not want to live without was the one view that warmed my heart and made me smile, time after time.

That view could only be the one from home, with Trout laying in the grass or playing in her pool, me on the porch in a comfy chair sipping on a cold drink remembering the time my journey took me solo to Texas.

Thank you all for coming along with me.  I hope you enjoy home as much as I do.

As always, Be safe.

Runkle and Onewheeldrive.net

If you ever see this...STOP!

Hey all, sorry about not writing.  I know my two viewers (Hi Mom and Dad!) have probably been wondering what I've been up to.  Well, Runkle (my new G650GS) has been rarely getting out due to the fact that I injured my foot.  I've been in a walking cast for the last month or so after foolishly attempting to get on a bicycle without hurting the already sensitive plantar fasciitis I'd acquired by going to a boot camp (I swear, I'm too old for that crap).   What did I do?  I overextended the muscle at the bottom of the foot causing a partial rupture of the plantar fascia.  I knew it hurt but finished a 4 mile ride since I was already on then the next day noticed the bruising on the bottom of my foot.  Well, and I wasn't able to walk...that was a sure sign of something!   I called my doctor who made time for me that day (unheard of!).  He informed me I'd ruptured the tendon and would be needing to stay off the foot and use a walking cast for a month!  What the!   So, new shiny bike is in the garage and I'm finally walking without the boot on a daily basis.  Today was the first day of no boot all day and plenty of walking and I'm feeling the pain.  Oh well, learned a valuable lesson:  bicycles are bad.

In my off time I've been attempting to write a bit for an online magazine, Onewheeldrive.net.  You can check them out now and see my first published article about my bike, Runkle.  Basically I combined a few stories from here and rewrote them to introduce the bike to my ever growing fan base.  (Yeah, I mean the two people who read this and also my friends whom I force to read my stuff under penalty of my singing at the next karaoke night).

So please, stop by http://www.onewheeldrive.net/  and check out my story about Runkle.  The direct link is here:  http://www.onewheeldrive.net/2011/05/17/returning-to-a-brand-a-story-of-2-bmws-and-1-jack/
More to come as I am able to ride again...Be safe all!