Big Arctic Circle Trip

Well, first you have to tear up your motorcycle. Bike on Blocks This is a few weeks before I left, down in the family room. I went over the bike mechanically, and installed my oil cooler, rerouted lines, etc.. to be a little more resistant to bounced rocks and such. I made a grand concession to practicality and put on the front fender. There were very few oil drops on the rug.

The actual start of my trip was stressful and dissatisfying, since my well-laid plans of departure and further physical preparation went badly in several areas:

As I learned in previous trips, a duffel bag on a bar behind my seat was an efficient and comfortable way to travel. I tried several means to have it fabricated, but at the last moment, the last chance did fall through. I had no mounting system for my stuff!
I had designed a tie-down system in lieu of the steel ‘goose-bar’ which was my first plan. To make it close coupled and tight, there were to be spliced loops into the frame of the bike. I could not find my sailor's fid to make the really tight splices, and had to resort to knots in the rope. It took more space and made loose connections when I pulled up the ropes by hand.
I got stuck in some sort of a psychological trap. I knew the preparations were going badly, but the vacation schedule was fixed and I wasn't making the breakthrough leaps to actually give me a comfort zone. My trip to Europe, for a whole year, was planned and launched with less stress. I had to break out of my preparation mode and just do it. I had the main stuff; the bike, bag and rope. I just couldn’t start. Thursday and Friday went by. Saturday, I mowed the grass to clear my head. Then I packed the bag, tied it on, and kissed Judy good-bye and left.

So ended the preparation phase. After that last kiss, I started the bike and went down the driveway. As I crossed the two inch bump into the street, the bag just fell off and I never made it one bike-length. Damn. That’s why I love her. Judy just observed the fiasco and waited for me to untangle the ropes, reorganize my mind (and my trail-mule packing skills) and smiled. I re-roped the damned bag down, figured I’d make it out of the subdivision and over to the gas station, and so made ready to go again. Judy kissed me harder, with a longer pucker, and it was all worth it. So I took the hell off. Gassed it up, beautiful day, and passed by Chicago at 12:00 noon Saturday 22JUN96. next, to Fargo and the Alaskan Highway, in one page

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