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Old 05-14-2011, 09:14 PM   #226
FloorPoor
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I am loving this report. I am jealous that you got to spend so much time doing two of my favorite things, traveling on the KLR and The wife and kids seriously cut into both.
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Old 05-14-2011, 09:49 PM   #227
Jettn Jim
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Quote:
Originally Posted by FloorPoor View Post
I am loving this report. I am jealous that you got to spend so much time doing two of my favorite things, traveling on the KLR and The wife and kids seriously cut into both.
We need to talk my poor man
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Old 05-18-2011, 09:32 AM   #228
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I've had the next installment ready for over a week now, but these panoramas are taking DAYS to render on my little netbook. Some of these panos include up to 40 or more photos....
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Old 05-18-2011, 02:10 PM   #229
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Originally Posted by Parepin View Post
I've had the next installment ready for over a week now, but these panoramas are taking DAYS to render on my little netbook. Some of these panos include up to 40 or more photos....
Unless you need to print a wall mural at 2400 DPI panos don't need to be rendered at full rez. Have you thought about doing a batch edit file size and then smashing the panos together? It might speed it up and lead to less headaches.

'Course my netbook is so sucky it might take a day to do that batch edit. Stupid windows 95 upgrade, should have stuck with 3.1.
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Old 05-18-2011, 05:41 PM   #230
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I'm intensionally doing them at full rez. I figure if I'm gonna go through the effort of making them, I'm gonna give myself as much as I can in case I ever want to make a print or poster, rather than having to go through and do them twice.

It'll be worth it in the long run, it just takes a lot of patience. One of those set it and let it run overnight kind of things.
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Old 05-18-2011, 06:35 PM   #231
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Keep it comin', great pics BTW
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Old 05-23-2011, 12:33 AM   #232
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My apologies ahead of time for the side scrolling action





Got up early, packed up and hit the road before todays occupants for the campsite decided to show up. I continued west towards Watford City. In the July heat and relentless sun, I took every opportunity I had to pull over and hide out in some shade, rehydrate and re-align my chi. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of shade out here. I tucked into a bar and grill just south of the city, north of the Badlands, the name of which has escaped me. Scored myself a mediocre burger and burned an hour or so of the hottest part of the day. I made a note to myself that next time around, I would invest in some mesh gear...


So I pulled into the city and stopped over at the Post Office. No package. What? With a guaranteed delivery date of, well, today, it should have been here. And with today being a Saturday, I would have no choice but to wait around until Monday for the replacement shock to show up. Dammit. I cruised around the “city” a bit, poking my head around a few RV parks but not finding much in a campsite that offered any kind of shade. Doubling back, I headed towards downtown to hide out at Outlaws bar and grill. They had some good grub here, and I had my first Buffalo burger here. I think this is also the last place I saw a Yuengling, my preferred poison.



Still gotta tweak this one




After mooching some WIFI and failing to find a decent place to pitch camp, I headed back outside a bit defeated, determined to merely cruise around until I found a place, perhaps just outside of the city, that I could pitch a tent. I slid into the saddle and donned my helmet, eyes focused on my GPS. That's when I heard it. The tweet. That fuckin tweet of a stock KLR exhaust. I glance up just in time to see a guy, helmetless, come bouncing up and over the curb and settle in right beside me.


“You look lost!” he shouted, despite having cut both engines.


“Something like that”


“You need a place to stay?!”


“...maybe. I've got a package coming in and I...”


“Follow me!”


With that, the beater of a KLR puttered to life and doubled around, lofting up and over the curb once again despite the clear path just a spot or two down the lot. I threw my gloves into my tank bag and started up my steed, following this mysterious stranger as we weave in and out of some back alley roads, down through suburbia and into what was apparently this guy's back yard. Bike frames and sidecar parts were strewn throughout the yard. I could identify several KLR carcasses, but the ancient frames stacked into the trailers and sheds remained unidentified.


We both dismounted and I shed my gear before introductions were made. He was Crazy Mike. And let me reassure you, the title was well earned. I was introduced to his roommate, Lyla, a sweet older woman who owned the place. I was given the tour of the place, including the dozens of projects Mike seemed to have going. Everything from KLRs, to sidecars, trikes and trailers, to 4X4 vans. Good stuff. I pitched a tent in the back yard beneath a tree and spent the night being entertained by Mikes tales of adventure.






After a decent night rest we headed out to the next town over for some festival of some sort. I wasn't quite sure what, exactly, but Mike said there would be food. Lots of it. Sold. So we cruised on over to discover there was, indeed, food. An entire cow was BBQ'd up and there were giant steaming vats of sammich mixins all around. After only really hanging out long enough to scarf down a few sandwiches, it was off to visit a few more of Mike's friends before we headed back out. I was given the tour of some country back roads and the badlands just south of town. Quite an amazing site. I unfortunately forgot my memory card in my laptop and wasn’t able to snap many photos, but I did what I could. I plucked some petrified wood from the cliff face to send home to my nephews, and harassed the wildlife. Prairie dogs were chased, corralled horses watered, and snakes teased. At one point we passed an old truck straight out of the twenties witting on the shoulder of a butte. It was riddled with bullet holes and stuffed full of straw, a scene straight out of some Bonnie and Clyde movie. According to Mike, this car had quite a similar history as well. Mike said this is the tail end of a car chase resulting from a bank robbery. Those bullet holes, most of the at least, were apparently original and not just some good old boy's drunken escapades after all the prairie dogs had gone underground. With that we doubled back into the city and was introduced to a couple of Mike's friends, a kid a few years younger than I and his cross eyed uncle, before piling into the back of the beater van. Apparently, today was July 4th and there were some fireworks going on in the next town over. Good deal.







So we all piled into the back of the 4X4 and I produced a doober from my sleeve. After acquiring permission to spark up, I...... commenced doing so..... I offered it around, Joking “no pressure”. The kid laughed, assuring me that he smokes all the time. Alrighty then, good company. So we knocked one back and just kinda hung out as night fell and we pulled into town. I remember there being a large field, probably a park of some sort, surrounded by hundreds of cars, vans, and BBQs. We found a spot and backed in. Mike and Uncle chatted a bit with some of the others as the kid and I hung back. It's here that I noticed he wasn't looking so good. It's here that I discovered that he was hypoglycemic, and that smoking always does this to him... good to know. He asked me if I had any candy. I was a bit offended.... then reluctantly produced an oversized white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie from my pocket. This didn't seem to help, and before I knew it we had half the Kid's family scrounging through the family vans looking for a stray sucker or a mentos. I just hung back. Ridiculous...


So the fireworks went off, they were cool and all. Kid was still conscious, which is always a good thing. We piled back in and headed back to Watford city where we stumbled into a central suburbia private fireworks display in the center of the street. This guy must have dropped thousands for this to go off, and it nearly dwarfed the county funded fireworks display we had just seen. After a solid hour of explosions, I began to hear shouting. Someone, very possibly intoxicated, was screaming at some random person in a truck and punching at their windows before they peeled off. Then the cops came. More screaming, accusations being thrown around and phone calls made. Caught in the mass confusion, I dropped back to the security of the rape van and passed out. It was early morning by then and I just didn't want anything more to do with it.


I grabbed the shock at the post office the next day, and was informed that my cost of shipping would be reimbursed seeing as it's hadn't arrived at the guaranteed date. Bonus. I quick trip back to Mike's place and in short time I had the shocks swapped out. I had been using a stiffer spring, and had to use a homemade compressor to pull it off the shock. I had included this with the shock and packaged it all up before I left New York. Mike also helped me throw together a larger footprint for the kickstand out of some scrap diamond plate. We hung out a bit, I toured around Watford City while Mike worked for the evening. I stopped in at what looked to be a popular drive in and grabbed a burger. Lyla and a friend came in just as I finished up my meal and greeted me with a surprise jab in the side. We chatted briefly and they went off to the corner and sat down, ordering and ice cream or some such. At the counter, I payed for my meal as well as whatever Lyla and her friend had ordered. I had offered to take Lyla to lunch the day before as a thanks for letting me stay. She declined, saying I should save my money for my trip. I figured this was my chance to get even. I smirked and waved at Lyla as I left. Later that night she gave me a hassle about the whole thing.



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Old 05-26-2011, 10:40 PM   #233
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Packed up to head up the following day. Again, the date is beyond me. But who cares. Mike was going to ride with me as I continued west. I had Pmed ahead to Bosco of the Tent space list a few days earlier and had initially intended on picking up my shock in Watford City and cruising over to Boscos for the install. Then Crazy Mike happened. So I still wanted to stop on in and meet a fellow inmate, my first I believe. Anyhow, we stopped at this old time steam powered draw bridge that was kind of cool. We rode along the railroad grade and into the tunnel on the other side of the river, then turned around and cruised on back. I took advantage of my new air horn as I passed under the mountain, spooking an elderly pair of hikers on the other side. They step just off to the left in the video. Kind of a cool old bridge. From what I remember, it was built to suit a law passed that every bridge crossing the Yellowstone river had to be a lift bridge to allow steamboats to pass underneath. This section of river never saw steam traffic, and because of this the bridge was only operated once, as a test run after it's construction. Hmm, interesting stuff right there.
http://www.midrivers.com/~fairview/bridges.html






Anyway, so we hung out a bit before I said my goodbyes and headed north alont route 85, then west on 200. Now I should have continued on 200 through Sydney. But I didn't. I found myself much further south. Easy, I figured. I'll just hit some back roads. As long as I'm heading north-westish I should hit 200 eventually. With a full tank of fuel, I took the next right... and managed to kill a few hours.



The best way I've found to look at some of these panos is to fit it vertically to your screen and scroll left and right like you're turning your head. Otherwise they come out looking kind of distorted....



http://parepin.smugmug.com/Other/Cha...-16-images.jpg



http://parepin.smugmug.com/Other/Cha...-21-images.jpg



http://parepin.smugmug.com/Other/Cha...-21-images.jpg




At one point, while standing in the center of the deserted road with no bike in site, taking a panorama in full textile getup, an old timer came cruising up in a mid-size pickup.


“Problem?”


“Naw, everything's cool”


“.... ya lost?”


“Yeah....”


“Where ya headed?”


*shrug*


The conversation continued like this. I assure him I had a vehicle, it was just at the top of some random hill. I told him I was from NY, and just enjoying the country. The solitude. He chuckled a bit and seemed to get it. He wished me luck and I continued my backroad-baja adventure.




Find the KLR

http://parepin.smugmug.com/Other/Cha...-19-images.jpg



http://parepin.smugmug.com/Other/Cha...-16-images.jpg



The goal was Lambert, Montana. I knew it west north-west-ish of me. That's all I had, and somehow I found myself stumbling into what seemed to be an oasis in the desert, a lone bar on the vast expanse. Lambert, Montana. Good stuff. I called up Bosco and he cruised down to the bar. We made introductions and knocked down a few before I followed him back to his place. Great house with an interesting history. He's got a thread going about it. Anyhow, I brought my bike into the barn and we chilled for a bit, knockin down a few more and just talkin bike bullshit. As night fell, I was led into the house and introduced to the rest of the family. And here is also where I met... it. By far the most uncomfortable couch in the universe. It was disturbing. I was downright insulted. Here I am, letting this random dude I met on an online forum give me a place to stay, allow him to bask in the glory that is a KLR and it's rider, and I'm given this three-cusioned bohemouth. And who needs that many pillows?


…..but I digress....
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Old 06-08-2011, 06:12 PM   #234
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Old 06-08-2011, 07:10 PM   #235
Jettn Jim
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Eh? Yup...............

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Old 06-08-2011, 09:05 PM   #236
Flashmo
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Old 06-10-2011, 08:12 PM   #237
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Hand's in a cast.... sooo.....


On an unrelated note, what advice can you give a guy with friction burns in funny places?
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Old 06-10-2011, 09:43 PM   #238
jpdude999
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Parepin View Post
Hand's in a cast.... sooo.....


On an unrelated note, what advice can you give a guy with friction burns in funny places?
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Old 06-11-2011, 01:05 AM   #239
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Got up the next morning after a surprisingly good nights rest and watched Phineas & Ferb with the Bosco clan. Had a decent breakfast and spent some time filling in my journal and pouring over some maps, getting a few suggestions from Bosco as to where I should head next. I even managed to fit in a quick shower and wash off that travelers funk. For the record, this guy has an absolutely bad ass shower. There were shower heads on the wall in front, over head, and even dropping down from the shower. Enclosed in glass and custom tile work, you could easily fit half a dozen full grown adults if you were inclined to group shower in such a fashion. I imagined it would either go down Oz style, or with a more promising X to Y ratio.


So back to the barn for some more bullshitting and a bit of work on the KLR. I swapped out the shock linkage for some 1” riser dog bones in hopes of regaining my clearence lost with all the extra luggage. Seemed promising enough. At this point, Bosco has me convinced that I need to stick around Montana for a few weeks and check out WestFest. I knew nothing about it, but after a bit of research I decided it was definetly worth investigating. An entire rally ran by the ADV crowd? Shenanigans were a sure thing. I made him promise to show his ugly mug there, himself. I'd have a few cold ones waiting for him. And with that, and a quickie pic opportunity that would later bite me in the ass, I headed out.

http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=597109



I followed highway 200 west to route 24, then north from there up to Fort Peck, advertised as having the largest hydraulically filled dam in the united states. This would put me over an hour out of my way, one way, but I figured it was worth it. A big ass damn would be cool to see, even if I didn't know what “hydraulically filled” meant. Well, it apparently meant dirt. I was pretty disappointed, I'm willing to admit. This damn turned out to be a big ass pile of dirt, and the town of Fort Peck not much more than a buncha ranch houses and trailers. I continued north on 24 for a bit, on the off chance that I hadn't yet reached the dam and maybe it was just a little up the road. But all was for naught. I stopped at a bar, mildly defeated, and had myself a good burger and a few beers. I shot the shit with the locals for a bit, but it was apparently of nothing too significant. Just normal bantering before backtracking south, back to 200.


I continued on into Jordan without much of an issue. At the next gas stop I went into the small grocery and asked the older woman behind the counter if they had any bagels, I hadn't seen any. “You mean bread? Like buns? Oh, bagels. I'm not a big fan of them. My girlfriend back east tried treating me to one. She put all sorts of cream and such on them. Cream cheese? That what they call it? Yeah. I plain old didn't like it. Cream cheese just doesn't agree with me, nope. So I'm sorry, son. We don't carry any cream cheese. We've got American in the cooler back there.”


I stood for a brief moment, mouth agape at what had just gone down before me. Mildly confused. I nodded and thanked her for her help, doubling back to the cooler areas and just grabbing a gatorade and some pretzels. Back at the front desk we chatted a bit as I payed for my food and fuel. She commented on the size of my IMS tank, as many people do. “You hungry?” she asked. I found this kind of funny, and nodded with a smirk. She chatted with the woman next to her who had been clearing out the heat lamps of their pre-fried goodness and handed the bags off to me, free of charge. Sure they were over a day old, but with a crispy, breaded outer coating a solid ¼ inch thick, how could any critter have gotten through.


So with that I headed north, to a little spot on my map that was sure to be chock full of fun times. Hell Creek. I found a small, state run camp site right on the edge of the creatively named Lake Fort Peck. I took my time with this and hung a hammock beneath a steel overhand covering a small picnic table. With my mylar tarp acting as a head reflector, I was able to hop up from the table into the hammock without much trouble, and fairly comfortably I might add. This whole hammock camping was kind of new to me, but I had had great success with it in the past should the conditions favor it. And it beats the hell out of setting up that damn tent every night, an act I was quickly learning to loathe. So with camp set I slid back down to the picnic table and spread out my goods. Mowing down on stale corn dogs and picking the innards from a few tornados, I began rolling my nightly herb by headlamp. Shortly into the rollings, a car comes down the path, doubles back and parks with his headlights shining on my camp. What an ass... Across the grass comes a park manager. I place myself between the goods and “the man” as we strike up a conversation. He asks me what I'm doing here and where I'm going, I quickly change the topic to Hell Creek and the fossil hunting activity. This seemed to derail any suspicion and it wasn't long before we were wishing each other a good night and I was allowed to continue. I slept that night pretty solid, the hammock slowly rocking and Pink Floyd echoing through my cranium.





*This post was typed up at 4 in the morning with a broken right hand.*
Where's the lighter?....
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Old 06-14-2011, 08:57 PM   #240
FloorPoor
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This RR is very entertaining. Nice pics. If you get into SE Idaho shoot me a pm.
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