By Alex Hall
In 2022, I went for a blast on my 2017 KTM 1290 SAR to attend my wife’s cousin’s wedding in Napa, California.
This is a longer story than expected and earned a Saddle Sore and Bun Burner for the effort.
So work slowed down enough that I began considering riding out to my wife’s cousin’s wedding in CA. Riding out there had been on my mind long enough not to have bought a ticket to fly out with my wife.
I serviced the bike on the 12th of June, and that included new rubber, which was due, so the only question mark was me. Was I up to riding all the way there and back, did I have enough confidence in my back and bike not playing up? I honestly questioned it, but like the many things I’ve done in life, there’s only one way to find out.
The bike I used is my only machine, bought used in 2019, with under10k miles. It’s a 2017 KTM 1290 Super Adventure R. It came with the OEM bigger hoops for offroad but also with a set of 19/17″ wheels with corrected ABS/Tone rings to suit the bike and indicate the correct speed. The previous owner also installed (incorrectly) a camel tank, which adds another 1.6 gallons of motion potion to the already large 6-gallon tank. When not pushing the bike and sitting around 70 to 78mph, she can easily do 300 miles on the lot, at an average 47mpg, but when pushed that’ll come down to 250……maybe….
It’s been a reliable machine and starts the same way it did the very first time I bought it. Easy to maintain, a bit dirty, with grime finding its way everywhere, but rewarding to ride. Have also been to a few track days with it on the smaller wheels and it was a hoot. I’m not tall enough to ride it confidently in the dirt, but it doesn’t do anything too scary unless I’m being silly.
The wedding was on the 25th, with a rehearsal dinner the day before, which is also the day wifey flies out and picks up her rental bike from a Twisted Roads member, so I had to be there by then. Initially was considering leaving on the 18th, which certainly would have given me ample opportunity to get there unless I get the odd hiccup. However, I got itchy and opted to leave on the 16th instead especially when I woke up early that day.
One pannier had personal clothing, including trousers and deck shoes for the wedding, wife would fly in with her dress and a jacket for me. The other pannier had first aid kit, tools, spare fuel, nuts and dried fruit, bivouac for light camping and water. No top box but took a soft tail bag to carry a lighter jacket as I knew I wanted to spend time riding in the desert areas south of Utah, Nevada, and Arizona.
It was a late-ish start on Thursday, at around 6am, a couple of nights before Heather and I discussed attempting an Iron But sometime during this ride and it was at the last minute that I refreshed what was needed. Fortunately, realised I didn’t have to disturb any neighbours and instead rode briefly up the road to the nearby station for the first tank full and photo op. So a quick kiss goodbye, with a promise to meet H at San Fransisco, where she was going to pick up her rental bike.
The route I had planned on Basecamp, took me south through Aquidneck Island, then join I95 south, but already knew that since my late start East Main road was going to be slow. Instead opted to go north off the island onto Rt24 North, then I195 West towards Providence. On a good day, both routes take about the same time to join I95S, but going via I195, is always a bit more dependable.
So off I went, flew on 195, not much traffic until entering Connecticut. I wasn’t too worried about this as the planned route would eventually take me north west off I95 up towards Middletown to join I84 and thereby avoid New Haven and the chaos of New York, crossing the Hudson on the Newburgh Beacon Bridge.
My first planned stop was at Montague/Port Jervis, I knew quite a few gas stations there, so could easily refuel and refresh before the next leg. The first minor hiccup, was that the gas machine worked with a prepaid amount, so punched in $20 and only got half a tank, not remembering the increased fuel cost etc. Punched in another $20 and that covered me the rest, which is why I obtained two receipts for this stop, unfortunately it didn’t include the station address, so I attached a couple of images from my CC statement to the photos verify my stop.
Back on the bike, next leg would be dragging along long, winding and busy Pennsylvania, initially on I84, then on I80 for most of the way West. As expected 84 through Pennsylvania was a bit dreary, but keeping the pace up and gently working through the traffic, kept boredom at bay. Next stop was at Sheets for lunch, always a favourite, while waiting for the custom made salad and wrap, recall being pleasantly surprised that I got this far in just over 6 hours. The bike was working really well, could feel the heat pumping off it when in slow moving traffic, but was very happy with it.
I’ve had this KTM since late 2019, yes, she’s a tad tall for me and reminds me about it all the time, but when under way she’s a real jewel. The bike can put-put all day long, lugging around in tall gears just like a typical dirt bike, but when you need to move, she becomes a real beast with her 165hp and buckets of torque. She shrugs off any thoughts of being loaded up with me in kit, close to 300lbs, and an additional 75lbs of gear and just becomes this fire breathing monster. She can still do triple digits effortlessly and can stay there at 6000rpm in 6th all day long. In fact I’m quite sure that if took the next leg a tad easier, I would have got more than 6800 miles out of my rear tire. It was just so effortless, the only discomfort I had was the micro bobbling of my helmet, which is eased when leaning forward.
Next stop was in Ohio, this was just a quick rest stop and refresh. I was on a roll, pushing the bike a bit, but both the machine and I felt comfortable. Not tired, or weary, the bike as obedient as ever. No rattles or warning lights, so on-wards we plugged. This is where I felt, that I could actually complete an Iron Butt.
Still remarkably not tired, I stopped at Howe, Indiana for a 20 min break, stretched my legs and began contemplating dealing with traffic again as I approach Chicago. This could be the final leg of the day! Very exciting.
Heather was on the phone looking for motels just west of the big metro area but ideally still on I80/90 and found a reasonable place in Joliet, which is SW of Chicago and would make the ride for today just over 1000 miles. I pulled into a BP station, not too far from the hotel at 22.30ish and the corrected odometer reading that I did 1022miles since leaving home this morning. Cool! First night in Joliet, Illinois with dreams of exploring at a slower pace to take in the scenery of Omaha and Nebraska tomorrow.
It was only after a good sleep, early the following morning that I idly mentioned to Heather if I should just carry on at the same pace and see where I get to. She looked up the IB website and it clarified that I can go on to attempt a Bun Burner. So at a slightly more leisurely pace, grabbed a coffee and muffin, lubed up the chain and off I went. This time into unknown territory for me as I only crossed the Mississippi once before, so was keen to spend the next few weeks on the other side for a change.
Iowa here we come, this part of I80 was less trafficked by cars and more by trucks plowing along at 80mph plus. It was easy enough for me to match them but was more comfortable just pulling ahead, thereby avoiding the turbulent air coming off the trucks. The official speed limit was up, so was confident that I could keep the pace without getting pulled over. My new Valentine 1 Gen 2 has been ominously quiet so far, with the older model it always chirped away reassuringly but was also annoying with it’s false alarms.
Pulled into Williamsburg around 11 and made it a lunch stop, the official fuel receipt didn’t include pump details but at least the cashier inside gladly printed a duplicate which did. This was unlike my stop yesterday in Port Jarvis, which didn’t supply an alternative receipt. Lunch was handful of nuts and some dried dates which had warmed up inside the pannier, at least they became really soft.
Fueled up, I80 was becoming tedious. Long, fast, and really windy, from the south, which certainly kept me awake…… Minden, Iowa was my next stop before entering Nebraska, a state I never stepped foot in. I was hesitant on the availability of gas stations at reasonable distances, so began paying closer attention to their location. I was still stopping every 200 odd miles, but just being aware eased my concerns. It was here in Minden that I worked out I already covered just over 1400 miles since yesterday and was blown away that in such a short space of time I could get to a very different part of the continent.
I had planned to stop in Ogallala for the night. Somewhere as a child, read of cowboys taking cattle there from the plains to be hauled away on trains to the big cities to be processed, so was keen to see what it was like. So off back on I80 I went.
It was great to see all the wind turbines on the hill sides in Nebraska and could certainly appreciate why. The wind was absolutely tiring. It’s one thing when it’s constant, as you can lean into it and settle down to a position on the bike, but the gusts upset it all. But I was keen to get to Ogallala and possibly complete the 1500 miles in less than 36 hours. Since I lost an hour due to entering Central Time, I had to get my last fill up before 17:00 local time, or 18:00 bike time, which I retained the whole 26 days riding.
Pulled into Grand Island, Nebraska for fuel at 16:27 local time and with the odometer telling me I did over 1580 miles since leaving Portsmouth, Rhode Island yesterday morning. Was absolutely surprised that the bike and I got here with such little effort.
My adventures carried on for another 24 days of riding, with just two days not going to be spent in the saddle, one day was due to the wedding and the other when I stopped at my wife’s brother’s family in Salt Lake City after visiting the Bonneville Salt Flats.
Cheyenne came next riding on Rt 30, which more or less paralleled the highway but afforded me some flavour of the older parts of these lands, which tend to get overlooked.
Went along 130, towards Centennial, with the intention to get close to Sugarloaf Mountain, which I did, but then promptly dropped the bike in ball bearing gravel while trying to get the bike by a sign, for a glamour shot. Serves me right I suppose.
Kept pushing along at a steady pace towards Salt Lake City and spent a night at my brother in law’s house. The following day, headed south west towards Dugway, Delta, Enoch, when I came across a cloud of dust in the middle of nowhere which could only have been another bike. Cool!
Turns out it’s another European chap, Stefan, who used to work in Providence, RI at Brown & Sharp instruments, now well past retirement age, keeps an Africa Twin in a lock-up in Canada and spends a few months of the year traveling around these parts on his bike, loaded like a camel with paper maps, pencilling in every trail and dirt road he can ride on! Damn! Now that is commitment. After a fuel up and coffee, we head our separate ways, me towards the southwest and Stefan north, slowly back up to British Columbia.
At this stage I must admit to have already lost a sensible perception of time. I knew it was Tuesdayish, or possibly Wednesday, but got back on the highway blasted through Las Vegas and spent the night in Barstow to gather myself after those last few days of Utah wilderness and dust.
The following day met up with my new friends, the Chapmans, at one of their favourite watering holes, The Rock Inn, at Hughes Lake. Leaving lunch, dropped my bike for the second time so far, while walking it backwards from it’s parking spot. Now with a clearer idea on some interesting routes to get me up to San Francisco, I set off up west side of central valley.
Took 33 north to Coalinga, followed by a detour through Coalinga Rd to Pinnacles National Park and found a great spot for the night in Salinas. The most impressive part of riding through the valley early in the morning were the fragrances of fresh fruit and berries in the clear air. It was absolutely amazing.
The following day caught up with wife’s sis, at Carmel before heading up to the airport for H’s arrival. She took an Uber to Steve in San Matteo from whom she was renting a 650GS for a few days, to ride together with the Chapman’s and myself along the eastern Sierras.
Two days at the wedding in Napa, then lubed chain and together we headed off to Angel’s Camp where we were meeting up with the Chapmans.
Taking most of 395 heading south is a story in itself, but great riding and scenery was nearly everywhere. Angel’s Camp to Bridgeport, then Bishop, Lone Pine, Olancha, through Sherman Pass to Kernville, before getting back onto wonderful 33 down to Ventura.
There we left the Chapmans, while H & I took the easy, but scenic and crowded, PCH back to San Fransisco. Her bike was returned with an added 1100 miles on the odometer, but in better condition than when she picked it up as I added some anti rattle tape to the front pads to remove the annoying squeal, other than that it worked flawlessly.
H insisted we must have a burrito from the Mission district, before a quick kiss and my departure to get back to the east coast.
Rains began to flood Yosemite and with road closeures decided to head north east, and found myself on the road to Lake Tahoe, Fallon with the intention to get to Salt Lake City in a day or two. Things began to slow down on Rt 50, due to what I thought was oil on the road, but in actual fact were Mormon crickets, getting squashed and spreading like a slick. I called ahead to the only hotel I could find en route and that was in Eureka, NV. One room was available and it’s mine for $68. Yeay! Just need to get there. Sun setting and still a bit slippery about, I pull up to this old fashioned sort of hotel, in a sleepy small town, with 3 young guys sipping beer and grilling some dogs and burgers over a home made grill which was half a large propane tank cut lengthwise. The manager was one of them and said the room was the one right beside his office, forgive the mess as it’s occasionally used for storage. Fine by me.
Dinner, oh boy, could eat a cow.
It’s the 3rd of July, the old fashioned saloon, opposite is open, but with the local sheriff standing outside with a bull horn asking people to leave as the rowdiness has got out of control, didn’t seem too probable that the kitchen is up and running with all the mayhem. Sure enough, inside the barman is doing shots with a pretty patron, the kitchen staff shouted back that the kitchen is closed but the pizzeria up the road should be open. Ok thanks.
Pizzeria found, looks like it’s closed. Actually shuttered is the appropriate term for it. So gas station dinner it is, tin of chilli, Cheetos and some sparkling water for its health benefits.
I joined the manager and his friends, while they struggled with their frozen meat on the grill, I bought a beer from them and ate mine at room temp. After dinner, was invited to the roof of the hotel to watch fireworks being let off by the local fire department. Cool, but couldn’t quite see how a building with a pitched roof has access for firework viewing, unless it’s through windows. Hmmmm.
Gathering our chairs, we lumber up 4 flights of stairs until we reach the roof line which then has a door out back, leading to a road. Nice! There already was a crowd seated in prep for the firework display and was introduced to the manager’s mother, who shortly thereafter stood up to greet, with a peck on his cheek, the sheriff I saw earlier. He noticed me and enquired if that bike with the RI plate was mine. Polite conversation lead to me explaining my travels, and that I was heading back to RI.
Fire works were cool to see and had a fun evening even getting to meet the manager’s grand mother and her husband too. It began to feel crowded and popped off to have an early start the following morning. Down stairs again, I come across another bike, an R1800, with the full shebang and sporting North Carolina plates. A cool guy doing a fundraising ride, cross country for kids with disabilities and with the bike loaned from his local bike shop. He fortunately had booked a room earlier so was all set, but we agreed to head to head out east together in the morning.
We set off together, but alas our pace was different and after an hour or so, was back on my own. I actually saw him again about 4 hours later, pulling into the Bonneville Salt Flats, just as I was leaving, heading to Salt Lake City. Spent two days in SLC and while there cancelled an order I had placed a week earlier while still in CA for a rear tire. I suspected that it would be shot by the time I returned to SLC, so ordering one in advance and have it replaced at Cycle Gear would work. However, by the time I was in Carmel with H a few days previously, realized I may not make it to SLC at all. So opted to replace the rear while still in CA, that way if I have to push to get home, I can do so without the added worry of threads.
With more concerns about my time away from gainful employment, I slowly realized that I had already been away 22 days. No panicked calls yet, but was sure they’re imminent.
So I decided to head east relatively quickly, first into Wyoming, then north a tad into South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan Upper Peninsula, Ontario, New York then finally back to Rhode Island. The upside of this last decision was I realized that the Upper Peninsula is accessible in a couple of days from Portsmouth, as that’s an area I’d really like to spend some time tootling around, though there are other northern states I’d like to spend more time in.
Traveling solo I was apprehensive of too much rough road work. One hiccup could have been the end of my trip, so played it a bit cautiously.
All done, back home after 27 days, the bike covered 9,986 miles, with one rear tire and no other demands. Chain, sprockets, oil change and valve check were due for replacement, but other than that zilch.
The bike owes me absolutely nothing, it withstood my stupidity and occasional abuse and took me everywhere I wanted, with two Iron Butt certificates to boot, for a Saddle Sore 1000 and a Bun Burner 1500.
I must own up to the fact, that I could not have done this if it wasn’t for the bike. It became the one item I totally depended on. It started, ran, got abused, dropped, rained upon in thunderstorms, beaten upon by hail and sun and yet still ran along without a care in the world. Now a month later, I just competed it’s big service including, chain, sprockets, valves and the usual oil and filters and plugs, and can honestly say she can do it all again without even thinking about it.
Little did I know, that 2 years later I’d be doing it again, but via a different route and with H on her 1290.