A Cold Night in Hell

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you may be swept off to."
Bilbo Baggins

A Cold Night in Hell

posted 11/10/03
Last summer, on our way back from the races in Monterey, we rode thru the Sacramento valley on a cookin’ hot day. It was 105 degrees in the shade and of course, there’s no shade on a motorcycle. Lots of fresh air but when the temperatures get above 95, the faster you go, the hotter it feels. This plus the dehydration factor means frequent stops to drink water and soak tee shirts for only a brief cooling spell. A dripping wet shirt will dry totally in 5 miles under these conditions.

To make this section even more "enjoyable", I ran out of gas! I knew the bike could get 190 to 200 miles on a tank of gas so I waited until the odometer read 180 and then started looking for a station. Hey, we were in California where there are more gas stations than grocery stores. There should be 2 stations at every exit according to state custom. Everywhere else there was but not in this section of I-5 just north of Sacramento. Reading 185miles I was becoming a little concerned. At 188 I finally saw a station just back off the freeway and I gratefully signaled right just as the bike started to stutter. Oh damn! The ramp went "up" to a rise that I didn’t want to push the bike to the top of but as soon as we headed off the freeway, the engine died. I pulled in the clutch and coasted as far as I could. We made it 2/3 of the way up.

A fully loaded BMW is tough to balance and push from the side. The best way is to have someone steer and someone push from the back. Since my Fearless Wife couldn’t steer, she pushed while I sat and steered. This in 105-degree heat and she was wearing full protective gear. We’re still married so either she’s forgiven me or she’s planning a painfully exquisite revenge. Note to self: A fully loaded BMW on a hot summer day doesn’t get as good of mileage as it does when ridden light and cool. After we filled up, we continued broiling north. As I sweltered, I made a promise to myself. I vowed to ride somewhere this winter on a day that was too cold and while I was shivering, I would remember this sweltering ride. This past Halloween, I made up for the California heat…and then some!

I had a conference in Leavenworth just over the Cascades. I took the BMW anticipating a great ride over and a cold one back. The trip across the mountains was everything that I had hoped for in the way of a nice fall ride. The air was crisp but not too cold with my heated jacket and heated grips. The fairing on the BMW blocked most of the wind. On the eastern side of Stevens Pass, the aspens and maples were in full glory as I descended into the Wenatchee Valley. Woodstove smoke would hang in some of the small valleys adding texture to the autumn smells as I hurried down to the lights of the town.

The conference ended the next day at 4:00 in the afternoon and after gassing up, I was headed out of town by 4:15. I was hurrying. I knew that the trip would take 3.5 hours total drive time and wanted to make the ferry home. It was already cold in Leavenworth as I left town. An air mass had moved in from the north and it was right at freezing. I wanted to make the pass before sunset as I knew there was a good chance of ice on the road and I wanted to be able to see this before a spinning wheel gave me the information. As the road rose up the slopes, the temperature dropped. A few miles before the pass, the moisture on the shoulders took on that crystalline look that said, "ICE". I slowed down to 50, then 40, and then 20 as I crept gingerly over Stevens with frozen slush at the sides and some mystery moisture in the middle. Salted? Chemically sprayed? Icy? I didn’t know so I assumed the worst and shivered my way over the top! The children sitting in the cars I had easily passed 30 minutes ago now made faces at me out the back window as they gleefully zoomed by.

It was in the teens at the top of the pass and I was hoping for a warm-up as I lost elevation down into the Puget lowlands. Hoping…but not tonight. The sun was now full down and Halloween in full swing as I crawled through the small towns of Gold Bar and Index. No scenery now, just cold that was penetrating through every seam and opening of my clothing. My hands were cooking on the bar side where I had the heated grips turned all the way up but on the backside they were tingling cold. An interesting sensation to be both too hot and too cold on something as thin as a human hand! Mt feet were gone, totally numb but the heat in the grips only served to keep my hands feeling the pain.

The traffic finally picked up as I approached I-5 and headed north. At Marysville the traffic thinned but as speed rose, the wind chill increased. All the while, I kept remembering Sacramento, the heat, the sun, the heat… but somewhere north of the Tulalip Casino I drew even with the summer. I could feel it! Instead of drawing on body heat put by from last summer I started to produce "body cold". The alternator whined to a higher note as I cranked every last amp into the resistance heaters in my jacket liner. I imagined a frantic call from the engine room: "Arctic shields are at 50% Captain. I kinna give ya more from my barrins!" Frigid air now tunneled by on all sides as I hunkered down in the traffic. Brake lights ahead guiding me on as I tried to conserve every last calorie. I ran with the pack as they motored their way through the night, the drivers in comfort, me chilling like a dead fish on ice. Over the hill into Mt. Vernon and in the distance, the starbase glow of the Anacortes refinery drew me on.

The ride on the last ferry home was cold. My body’s thermostat was broken, but with my jacket over me I was finally able to sleep from Lopez to Friday Harbor. I was even colder after my nap but the thought of a plunge into my hot tub at home pulled me like turning an old horse towards the barn. When I finally jumped in, I swear 250 gallons of water cooled 25 degrees in less than a minute!

Well, I finally warmed up and was able to consider my folly. All this on a whim! A single thought on a sun addled summer ride. How silly. Would I ever do this again? Hell yes! In a heartbeat. I was uncomfortable…but I was alive. I was really cold but I felt it! And the warm up at the end was far more enjoyable than any dip on a mild day after doing nothing much. I don’t know if I’ll take another cold ride right away but I wouldn’t discount the chance in the future.

Right now though, I feel behind in my heat account. I need to take a really hot ride and remember what Stevens Pass felt like on Halloween in 2003. I wonder what Death Valley is like in July…

The Old Squid

news @sanjuanislander.com

ABOUT US | ADVERTISING INFO | CONTACT INFORMATION |