I took my longest solo ride on my scooter yet yesterday: from Building 17 in Redmond all the way to Port Angeles, 90+ miles, including a five mile ferry ride from Edmonds to Kingston.
My boss ran into me on my way out the door, spied the tripod in my hand, and asked how the hell I was going to carry that on a scooter. It’s not a big tripod, but I just beckoned him to follow me: I wanted him to check out the large yellow duffle bag that would be coming with me as well. I’ll have to get a picture of me with all my gear strapped onto my scoot on the trip back.
The eastside part of the ride was easy: I took local roads all the way to Edmonds with max speeds of 40 mph in sunny weather. And, of course, I didn’t have to wait for over an hour to get on the ferry: Motorcycles skip right to the front of the line, which was over a mile long at that point.
But on the ferry, a brutal wind picked up. When we were facing due west, the blow was so strong, I was worried it would push my scooter over. The clouds were ominous, too, and I realized then that I only had enough plastic to cover myself and one of my two bags–clothing in the duffle, electronics in my backpack. Tough choice: the backpack would be shielded somewhat from the forward velocity, and much of the electronics are weatherproof. Wet clothes are easy to dry.
The ride from Kingston to Port Angeles was rough. The air was 10 degrees cooler than the eastside, that wind was blasting into me the entire ride, it started to rain, and the speed limit was much higher (55) than I expected (45) for a winding, rural road. Normally, 55 mph is no problem, but with luggage and wind, my max speed on straightaways dropped to 55-60 mph, from 70. There weren’t many straightaways, of course: it seemed like the entire ride was uphill, and I had to pull over frequently to let cars pass me–I could barely hit the speed limit most of the way.
The Hood Canal Bridge was the worst, though. Without trees or hills to block the wind, I was constantly pushed over to the right. To make it even more fun, the bridge had three stretches of metal grating: a scary prospect in wet, blustery weather with four wheels going 45 mph. On two wheels? *shudder*
By the time I arrived in Port Angeles, my fingers felt raw with cold (despite my heavy gloves), my nose was running, my whole body ached from the weight of my camera and laptop on my back, and I was chilled to the bone. I never understood that saying until I owned a scooter. It took over an hour for the caloric furnace that is my body to warm back up: I was bundled up in my scarf and heavy scooter jacket throughout a mediocre Chinese dinner.
But I’m here, and safely. And the wind should be at my back for the return trip.