AZ B.C. Part 3

As I was preparing to leave the Regional Park behind, my trusty old (and it is old let me tell you) Combo watch, altimeter, thermometer read 79.4 F in the shade.  My elevation was 1380 feet above sea level.  It was already 3:07 in the afternoon.  Yikes, better get a mosey'in along lil doggie.

Under the sun, blazing away in a cloudless AZ winter day, I was already getting warm.  I decided to fore go my MSR enduro jacket and just wear my long sleeved riding jersey.  Kick starting the XT is easy.  There is a well curved steel kick starter lever that tucks right away when not in use, and it operates a decompressor in the four valve engine, allowing for a very easy boot.

In any case, the engine lights off pretty much every time on the second or third kick. Not much of a workout really, not like the '90 DR 650 I was looking at.  Even with a finger operated decompressor lever on that bike, it is a brute to kick over.

Oddly enough, here I was at the base of the White Tank Mountains flanking Phoenix on the western boundary and I wanted to ride just to the north of this small range.  For some reason there is no road either north or south from this particular area, I would have to ride east again on Olive back to either Cactus or the 303 to get north into Surprise, where I could pick up Bell road west once more.

I find the gearing on this bike to be a wee bit low.  At an indicated 60mph (102kph) the engine is using 6000 of its 8500 available revs.  Fortunately Keith had an alternate rear sprocket that, once installed, should take a thousand revs off that.  There was no time nor tools to do this in the few days I'd had the bike in my posession.  Next time I vowed. 

These bikes with a six speed gearbox can easily be geared taller to lower the revs at cruising speeds, and still have plenty of muscle for puttering around in first or second gear.  Even my XT 600 carries higher gearing.  After all, most of my time is spent on harder surfaced roads or trails and not paddling thru sandwashes, more on that later...

I was amazed at how far the city has grown, pushing it's boundaries in every quadrant.  When first riding this place in the winter of '98, the city was miles from these mountains.  Now, it was nearly butting right up against them.  Phoenix, which is made up of many individual cities, brings the term 'urban sprawl' into sharp focus.  IN that way, it reminds greatly of Calgary, another city where land values were cheaper the farther out you got from the city center, and housing tracts and their attendant shopping areas blossomed!

The other thing I found was the fence!  I rode for miles before I found an opening that led me into areas that I had rode extensively years before.  There are gullies and washes and tracks in every direction possible, paralleling the mountains and leading into them.  Wouldn't want to be out here at midnight trying to find the way!  I found mucho evidence of man's presence everywhere. An old auto frame, junk including a hulk of a washing machine, debris and countless shotgun shells and various calibre of rifle ammo, especially 22.

Taking a break, I heard the obvious low rev growl of an ATV or similar.  Turned out to be a side by side had stopped about 200 yards from where I was parked, while I was taking some pics and drinking my water.  Water by the way is an absolute necessity out here at any time of the year.  More so the hotter it gets.  I have been stuck in Baja and even on a mountain top in the Okanagan having to push and clutch a bike thru foot deep sand.  When this happens, b elieve me, you work up a sweat pronto and you will drink your water by the gallon. 

Forget pop... stick to water.

Two people emerged from the 4X4 in camo gear, I could just make out a man. who waved at me, and a blonde haired woman.  They walked about the place and within minutes, they had unloaded some armament and began shooting.  It was small caliber, the sharp short crack of a 22 I'd guess.  By this time I was heading outwards, the shadows were getting long in the afternoon and I didn't want to have to find my way out in the dark. 

Remind me later and I will fill you in a little more on guns...

I took a different set of trails on the way out, funny thing is one moment it's heading south, then abruptly turns east or west, then north, then south... you get the picture. 

The highest daytime temperature I saw on my watch was 84.8.  Not bad at all for a January day.  By the time I'd wound my way back to the roadway, it was late in the afternoon and I stopped to don my jacket for the ride back into Surprise. 

I knew if I followed Bell road eastwards, I would eventually find an 'In N out' burger franchise.  Andrew had stated in no uncertain terms that "I had to try it, they were the best burgers on the planet!"  Well I found the joint and I have to say a couple of things here... "They were incredibly busy!!!  The service was great, the staff seemingly happy and friendly, the atmosphere for a burger bar, was pleasant too.

Sitting outside surveying how I was going to wrap my rather smallish mouth (no comments from you guys) around this sandwich, the air temperature although dropping was very pleasant...

                                                                                                 to be con't...

The AZ B.C. part 2

One of the prime reasons I kept watch on property values in and around Phoenix and was eventually able to buy, was the opportunity to ride a motorcycle in our Cdn winter months.


For more than a decade, it was only a pipe dream, but I kept my vigil and was always hopeful.  I had been thru the area several times over the years and had even purchased a Honda C-70 Passport in red, to go along with my living room model, in yellow.

That bike I bought over e-bay from the Phx area in '06.  When I drove down to pick up the bike, I remember thinking again, 'some day I am going to have a home here...' 

As with many occurances in life, opportunities come and go, the intentions may be there, but the timing is not.

So it was with the AZ dream.

It wasn't until the melt down otherwise known as the "sub prime mortgage crisis' came about, that my opportunity arrived.

Housing prices in the US tumbled.

I bought.

I finally had my southern base of operations.  Since the days I had read Frank Conners writing  about riding the roads of the Southern US including route 66, the Superstition mountains, the Florida Keys... I always wanted to do this.

Last year I came down with my buddy Tom, furnished the place, set up a bank account, geared up the utilites and sampled the motorcycling.

This year I was here hosting Liz and her youngest sister Cindy, who wanted to celebrate her 40th somewhere other than home, and who had suggested maybe Uncle Frank's place in AZ.

Brenda and Anna followed, and once they'd returned home, I went shopping.

The scooter was my first purchase and the XT followed.  By having a couple of bikes locally tagged and insured, it makes things simpler than having to bring bikes down from Canada each year.

I was heading home shortly, and this weekend was my last chance to do some local riding.  I could spare one day... and not even a full one at that.

Once licensed and insured, back pack in place, XT and I headed west.  I wanted to check out some of my riding spots from years previous.

I turned left on Olive ave, the main intersection just north of me.  At the end of the road, literally I found the entrance to White Tank regional park and lo and behold, a beautiful public library and information center.

The library looked like something from FLW's sketch book, clean bright, airy and brand new! 

I wasn't interested in the books as much as the building and surroundings.

The regional park has hiking trails, mountain biking including a serious downhill park, camping and picnic areas.  For day trippers, a worthy destination. 

Obviously a popular spot, even for Cdns...

Today's destination for myself was further west than this park.

It was to the White Tank mtns to ride the desert...

Now isn't this novel!

The Arizona Biker Chronicles...

Nope, this isn't going to be one of them, "Bad Ass, Coke snortin', tearing up some town, falling down drunk, acting like a bunch of 1% Hawg riding weekend wannabe Hell's Angel" * kind of Blog.

This... is a whole lot of other kinda bikin' story/blog.

It was near time to leave, as in vamoose, make for home, three... mebbe four days on the road. 

I'd ridden the little Adventure scooter over 200km since picking it up a couple of weeks ago.  It's really quite cool.  My first fill-up shows about 78mp US gallon.  Pretty good I'd say wouldn't you.  I expect it will improve slightly once I get a few hundred K on the engine.  It pulls well, has absolutely no problem leaving Vettes behind at green lights, good acceleration to about 70kph where it flattens out a little bit, but will eventually hit tops speeds close to 100K me thinks. 

I've had the speedo showing 90kph but I think that is a bit optimistic, felt more like an actual 80-85.  James had said that some customers claimed they could do 65mph, that's about 110kph.  I have my doubts about that, and hey, I don't weigh all that much compared to some of the guys I've seen riding these!

 It's powered by a fan cooled, four stroke single with the typical scooter belt drive auto trans.  Kinda like Lisa's Dodge Calibre.

Braking is a simple single leading shoe rear and a hydraulic front disc.  Never mind that is says ABS on the front fender, it isn't.  Those clever Chinese marketing gurus...  It does stop well enough for the speed it develops.  The fuel tank hold about 1 Imperial gallon I think, I know it took just over 1 US gallon when I filled it, the only time.  Reliability... we shall see.  Of course the largest market by far in the world for scooters and two wheelers in general is the Chinese home market, if that's any indication.

One of the best things about this little thing is the lighting.  The headlights operate on both beams and the turn signals, two rear and FOUR front, are very bright.  I've had several comments on it's looks from passerby and more than one person has been fooled at the displacement... the decal looks like 750, but again those marketing whizzes are only playing games with us.

You may notice the oversized aluminum looking racing exhaust.  Here again it's really overkill as the thing is so dang quiet, I sometimes turn the throttle to see if it accelerates to be sure the engine is still running.

You will notice my plate number... it was purely random and is no indication of my mental state at the time!

The bike came with a cavernous lockable color matched trunk.  That and the underseat storage is enough for several bags of groceries, just don't try carrying lumber on it! 

*Standard disclaimer for these guys "No offence boys."

On the road again...

Well, once again, the DR is loaded up, the scooter and XT are put away, and I... with my driving partner Lil Phoenix aka Albert Einstein, will be heading out in the morning.

2500km, On the road again!

See ya'll real soon :)

The little Furball!

I was told this is an Olive tree in my backyard.  Seems more like an Albert tree to me.

Whatever it is, he surrre like hanging out, playing the jungle cat.

"High up in the branches, the stealthy predator watches for prey."

Using his well concealed position in the tree tops, Jungle cat watches over his domain.

Blending into the foilage, he remains ever wary.

"I am fearless cat."

Ever higher, vigilant and with the sole purpose of securing the next meal...

See that hole to his right, well he's getting a wee bit too large to fit thru there, witness the next frames.

Yup, that'd be a 'piece of Albert tail.'  Now cut that out you guys, it's his tail.

See!  He can just barely squeeze thru there now after a month of regular food.



Pacing the ramparts of Fort Frank (get it?  Frank furt)




"STOP!  Who goes there!!!"



That's Mom on the upper left, and two siblings.  Half n half domestic and outdoor cats.

Meet Albert...

 as in 'Young Einstein'.  

Otherwise known as 'Lil' Phoenix.

One of the downfalls of such a mild year round climate are the amount of wild or semi wild cats  around.  You see them in parking lots, parks, Sahauro Ranch, my complex.  Pretty much everywhere. 

Here at Olive Green Villas there are dozens of pusses of various descriptions, roaming about.  The people at PAWS tell me the breeding season is so long and very few people bother to spay or neuter their cats.  So, the result is a population explosion amongst felines.

Albert was one such kitty.  We saw him around the hood, tiny... oft times with a similarly sized  piano key colored partner.  Anna tracked him relentlessly for the better part of three days...

As I had mentioned previously she can be utterly focused on the task at hand that interests her.  By contrast, if she loses or has no interest, sayanara baby.

Not so with Albert though.  Feeding him tidbits from the fridge, enlisting Mom's aiding and abetting, they arrived "home" one day with this itty bitty scraggly, sopping wet little pussycat. Brenda's explanation, which may have been somewhat rehearsed was thus: 

"Some young boy thought he was his cat so took him in.  Finding that his fur was oily, no doubt the result of rubbing up against some leaking oil pan, he shampooed and cleaned him up.  Lo and behold, his kitten had been curled up in a closet, so therefore newly laundered Albert had to go."   

Another young girl provided a knit blanket to cuddle him with, and when the gangsters (and I do mean that with all sincerity) Brenda and Anna, in collusion with one another, showed up on my patio with this dripping wet, little boyishly handsome dumpling, with the explanation.

"Well we certainly couldn't just let him go, he was shivering severely as if he'd just arrived from the Arctic..."  wink wink with those big brown sad eyes.  Not Albert, but Brenda! 

Okay I do love kitties and how am I supposed to resist two large chocolate colored orbs looking at me plaintifly?!  (Not Albert, Brenda!!!)

I made a little house out of my many cardboard boxes, I believe this one from my RCA sound system, as luck would have it, the perfect size.  After a bit of work with the utility knife and blanket installed and a little coaxing, he settled right in.

I made a point of explaining to daughter Anna, loudly enough so that Mom could hear too, that he had to stay outside, that I couldn't take him home to Canada with me.

That lasted about 3 days, until the temperature dropped substantially and it pelted, nay... came down as if from a firehose, at which point I moved the little guy into the utility room at about 3 am one morning.

Upon my return to the boudoir, Brenda, sitting up, merely smiled that knowing female smile that girls (I am sure) used to be taught from grades 3 until 8!  No words needed to be spoken... she just smiled, maybe grinned is a better word.From there, it was only a matter of time before Albert managed to "streak past Anna" into my dining/living room and beyond, to the utter shreiking delight of little miss sneaky pants girl.  Within days, he was curled up on my bed!

Reminds me of another unwanted little half starved, fur and bones little left behind male that I ultimately kept company with for 19 years...

He was my "Cat Boy" ... maybe there is another one to fill those paws.