American Eclipse (1878 and 2017)

I just finished reading American Eclipse by David Baron.  It chronicles the path of three notable people as they prepared for and viewed the eclipse of July 29, 1878.
Thomas Edison is known as an early American prolific inventor.  He ventured west in 1878 to test an invention which was supposed to be a very sensitive heat detector.  While his experiments were largely inconsequential and his "tasimeter" a footnote at best, the theory behind its use was sound and perhaps ahead of its time as it may have been one of the first instances of searching the cosmos using radiation outside of the narrow visible spectrum of light.
James Craig Watson viewed the eclipse hoping to find the existence of a planet inside the orbit of Mercury.  He found an unknown object that he determined to be the planet "Vulcan" which he was looking for.  Dying a few years later, before his planet discovery was debunked, his legacy remains one of setting up an astronomy award which bears his name today.
Maria Mitchell went to research the eclipse with a female contingent.  Plagued by the misogyny of the era, her eclipse viewing didn't result in any immediate consequence, but her legacy lives on as an early female pioneer during America's ascendancy in science.

I read the book as I am preparing to head out to see the 2017 eclipse in a few weeks.  My upcoming eclipse viewing is strictly experiential, not scientific.  I've done as much preparing as I can at this point, which means I am now free to worry as the date approaches.
Like most people, my chosen location is based on a mix of where I live, where it is likely to have minimal clouds and where the amount of people will be tolerable.
In February of 1998, I went down to camp on St. Johns in the US Virgin Islands.  An eclipse was passing through that area but the eclipse was more of an excuse to go on a rather exotic vacation for a couple weeks.  Camping on the beach near a bizarre cast of characters and wild donkeys was quite an experience.  St. Johns was in the 80%+ band of the eclipse, and it was interesting, but anticlimactic.  If anything, the crescent shadows cast by the sun obscured by the moon were probably the most interesting feature.

I want to see totality this time.  And I'm a chronic worrier, so I have several weeks to fret.
I worry about the weather.  As much as I plan on going to an area that is likely to have minimal clouds, even the driest areas in Eastern Oregon have some probability of all-day cloudiness or torrential rain during the actual event.  I am aware that I can do nothing about this, and while minor adjustments can be made, major changes will be difficult within the time frame of accurate weather forecasts.  My preparation has essentially locked me into the general area I've chosen.  More out of curiosity, I looked at major destinations on the path of totality to see what, if any, hotel rooms were still available.  Few are, and they are all really expensive; in the most egregious example, a 1-star hotel with bad reviews in Casper, Wyoming is still available ... at a cost of nearly $1200.

I worry about people.  I plan on going to a less-populated area of the country, but will thousands and thousands of other people have the same idea.  Intuitively I think not; a small subset of the population will be going to great length to see the eclipse and a larger subset will make an effort near where they live, but I don't believe the entire path of totality will be crawling with people to view an event which is to last only a few minutes.  Still, I'd rather not view the eclipse while stuck in some traffic jam which is historic for the area I'll be in.

While I enjoyed reading American Eclipse, I'm not sure it was wise to do so.  David Baron writes of the inability of people to find boarding rooms in 1878.  There are a lot more people around with a lot more ability for information 139 years later.  In some sense, being in the right kind of crowd may be fun for an event like this - I just hope to have a few square feet for me and my tripod.
He also writes about terrible weather leading up to the eclipse.  But in the end, the eclipse day was clear and weather forecasts have come a long way in 139 years.

I guess as with any kind of travel, the anticipation is part of the experience.  Forty-nine days and counting...

As If I Needed Yet Another Reason Not To Fly

Full disclosure:  My last flight just over a year ago on American Airlines went smoothly.  All four legs of the 9000 round trip flight departed and arrived nearly on time.

I hate flying.  A decision to fly anywhere means handing over an unlimited amount of time to a soulless corporation.  I know the statistics, driving is more dangerous.  I understand the clock - planes fly fast.  But the pain is just not worth it.
My previous flight in 2008 was more typical for my flying experience.  Arriving on a morning with questionable weather, I checked in to a plane that was initially listed as on-time before its status was updated several times, leading to lots of confusion.  Eventually on the plane, departure was greatly delayed as the Captain informed us there was a minor mechanical problem with the plane.  Eventually we took off, exceedingly late and arrived in a special kind of hell - Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta Airport.  Missing the second flight of the day, I sat in the airport for several hours.  The airline decided the first flight's delay was due to weather, not the mechanical problem the Captain knew about.  Eventually, I asked to be put on the next flight home.  This was not possible since one connecting leg of my return flight was not on the same airline, meaning I had no choice but to sit several more hours in Atlanta.  Eventually, I was put on a plane in an opposite direction from my final destination of Las Vegas, NV.  I was again blessed with several hours sitting in another airport.  While Fort Lauderdale seems like a nice place to spend some time, airports are like public restrooms - they are pretty much all the same and the goal is generally to get out as fast as possible.  Eventually I was put on a plane bound for Las Vegas.  By the time I was outside of McCarran Airport, I could have driven from my home to Nevada in less time than what the airlines were able to do.

And that gets to my biggest problem with airline travel.  Arriving a day late, stinking and feeling shitty, after being routed all over the country counts as a win for the airline, "You got there, it was only a day late."  But the Las Vegas Trip in question was only a few days.  There is nothing I value more than my vacation time and the airline stole a considerable percentage of it.  Once I bought that ticket, I was under the whim for whatever the airline wanted to do.

My 2008 flight was glorious compared to a recent situation.  Filed under current events, a doctor was recently physically dragged of a United Airlines flight from Chicago O'Hare bound for Louisville, KY.  He wasn't drunk.  He wasn't unruly.  He was a paying passenger, sitting quietly in his seat, just trying to get home.  The flight was overbooked and United found it more important to get a few employees to Louisville rather than any passenger; United Airlines found its business more important than the reason for the business.
I understand why airlines overbook, but when it doesn't work out in their favor, they need to bite the bullet.  Better options include:
Moving employee schedules since they screwed up and paying lots of overtime or whatever it took.
Putting the employees in a nice rental car to drive the five hours (yes, only five hours) to Louisville.
Chartering a plane since United screwed up.
Continuing to raise the amount paid to overbooked passengers until someone volunteered (give me lots of cash and a rental car and I'll drive myself to Las Vegas!).
Paying to move people to other airlines.
Anything ... other than dragging a bloodied elderly man off of a flight after he was allowed to sit down.

Making the situation even worse, the CEO issued a statement applauding the employees, while one of the officers involved in dragging the man off of the plane was put on leave.  A CEO should not make up words like re-accommodate to try to sugar-coat the situation.  What a wretched euphemism.  Maybe the CEO should be re-schooled in the reason for an airline.
One of the rules we all learned in kindergarten was when we screw up, admit and say sorry.  Doing otherwise makes a bad situation worse.  Perhaps Oscar Munoz didn't learn this early in life; there is also a relatively high possibility that he may be a psychopath.

In the sad state of airline travel, there is no way to win.  Paying more for a business class flight doesn't change the likelihood of getting anywhere on time (private jets probably do, but...).  The people in the front of the plane are just as unlikely to arrive on time as the proletariat.  The only way to slightly hedge the odds in the favor of the average traveler is to minimize connecting flights - a cheap 3-leg flight has at least 3x the chance of mayhem over a more expensive direct flight.

I never lived through this, but I sometimes wonder what flying was like before it was brought down to the lowest common denominator?  Before people were crammed in a seat only big enough for a prepubescent anorexic girl.  Before a short flight becomes an all-day affair.  Despite my poor personal record with airline travel, I'm always friendly with the people at the gate and on the plane; at times, they have a painfully tough job becoming the face of bad corporate policy.

I'm hoping to head south for a day of ocean fishing in a few weeks.  My travel time will be more than the time spent at the coast, but I'm looking forward to that as much as the fishing.  I'll get to see familiar sites, and look for opportunities on taking a new route.  I'll stay in cheap hotels and eat at small restaurants.  I'll probably get to talk to interesting people and see things impossible to comprehend from 30,000 feet.

Thankfully, I love driving.  I've turned "travel" from the worst part of my vacation to the best part.  I've ridden my motorcycle through 50 states (*Hawaii was a rental).  I love the areas that look like home in the Midwest; familiar, yet different.  I love crossing the Mississippi and seeing the rolling hills transition to the great American plains - so much better than the lousy United planes.  I love the big empty.  I love the mountains and how arriving at them having crossed the whole country brings with a better frame of mind compared to being dumped out of an aluminum tube.  I love the heat, the cold, the smells, the rain.  I look forward to the challenges of roadway travel, because I know I have a little more control in how to resolve them.  And I'm reasonably certain that nobody will drag me out of my vehicle because the road is overbooked.

Dust Devil

I took advantage of the warm dry Memorial Day weekend to ride the bicycle.  Sunday was a long ride down to the river; returning home meant a punishing but rewarding altitude climb.  Monday was a ride with no particular destination or route - just a meandering that was almost as much mental as it was physical.
Monday's ride took me through rural areas in Indiana, down many little-used roads.  The air was less humid than the previous few days, with the sun rapidly heating up the morning.  While headed north on a narrow farm road, I saw something I hadn't seen in quite some time.  A dust devil rolled from west to east.  After crossing the road in front of me, it picked up some of last year's corn husks and carried them over a recently-planted field before disappearing in a vibrantly green wheat field.  I stopped riding, taking time to watch the dust devil.  I wondered for a few seconds how a dust devil forms, but put the thought out of my mind and just lived the sight of it in the undisturbed morning.

Vacation is months away, but planning can allow the vacation to begin long before it actually does.  Hopeful stops can be estimated and potential routes planned.  All this early planning can then be scrapped, with new ideas.  Planning helps build anticipation and creates stamina for the painful monotony of the weekly routine before vacation actually happens.  Mentally, this means vacation is already starting.
The vacation will be a road trip to the Northwest; I was last through the area in 2012, so it hasn't been that long, but I love the big empty and how it slowly builds to the mountains and falls away to the coast.
I reread Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig as just about any route I look at will spend some time in the same areas that the author talks about in that book.  This makes my third reading of it; there are very few books that I've read more than once - let alone three times.  Each time, I pull new things out of the book, and remember previous highlights that I've failed to do anything with.  On my first reading, I liked the parts about the journey, but the philosophical parts could be hard to wade through.  Since I'm now more familiar with the storyline, I find myself more interested in the philosophy and slightly frightened that the author's mental train and non sequiturs can at times be so similar to my own.  The metaphysics can still be a painful slog in some places.  I'm not sure if I have my own Phaedrus, but we all have ghosts.

"The Buddha resides as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain."

Among the things I look forward to when traveling are those times when I realize I'm so completely in the moment, unconscious of time, and existing in reality; as well as being completely separated, both mentally and physically, from the normal issues of work or the daily mayhem.  Time seems to stand still and pass quickly simultaneously.  I'm not sure what people who meditate are going for, but I bet it is something like that.  I'm also not sure meditating in the scripted sense will work for everyone, but riding for miles on a motorcycle, sitting in a hunting stand or riding a bike can supply some form of Zen - if accompanied by the right mental state.

"The only Zen you find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there."

Before I saw the dust devil, I was thinking about the upcoming vacation.  Between that and the extra day off of work, I guess I was in the right mental place.  However briefly, life made a little more sense watching that dust devil wander by on Memorial Day.

A few days later, I looked up online how dust devils are formed.  I wish I hadn't done that - Google has made it so we can almost always get too much information quickly, and then discard it like last year's corn husks.  I'm not sure information naturally creates comprehension.  And just watching the dust devil should have remained sufficient.

What Started It All

The company I work for makes me use any of the previous year's leftover vacation by the end of April.  This normally means I have some time off at the end of April.  In  addition to getting things done around the house for spring, I often use this time for a quick motorcycle trip somewhere.  This year is one of the first in a long time where I don't have that "forced" time off, and I kind of miss it.  But I'm happier still that this means I've used (at least) more of my 2015 vacation.

The leftover vacation from 2015 was used going to Hawaii.  Of the many things done while there, I rented a motorcycle, completing a goal to ride through all 50 states.
It may be wrong, but I see riding a motorcycle through all 50 states as an accomplishment.  I won't look down on anyone who trailers their bike, but trailers are for broken bikes; tugging a bike to a location to ride is a vacation with bike.  "To and Through" is a motorcycle tour.  This does, of course, mean Hawaii will always have an asterisk after it since I chose the practical route of renting a bike there.
I sometimes look back and laugh at my first year of motorcycle touring now.  My first trip was short and very wet, and I really didn't know what I was in for.

I sold my Harley Davidson 1200 Sportster and bought a Superglide T-Sport specifically because I wanted to start touring.  I promptly hit a deer with it, but this didn't change any of my resolve to try touring.  That next spring the planning started to take the T-Sport to a rafting trip to West Virginia's New River.  Compared to today, there was a copious amount of planning for such a short bike trip, all of 300 miles.  And I was nervous; maybe nervous isn't the right word - anxious, aware, apprehensive excited...

As the weekend of the trip approached, the weather forecast looked bleak, and continued to deteriorate.  A cold front was coming through bringing rain and rain with some rain.  On the morning to depart, the weather radar painted a wide swath of green over much of the area.  Knowing I was deluding myself, I decided it looked like it wasn't too bad and would probably clear up sooner than meteorologists were predicting.
The T-Sport was a great bike, but the bags were only slightly weather resistant, and the T-Bag I used on the luggage rack didn't even pretend to keep water out.  While we had motorcycle rain gear, our overall preparedness for heavy weather was lacking.
Still, reality be damned, off we went.

We left in light rain and got around the first big city.  Exiting the interstate, the rain picked up quickly.  After an hour or so of riding in heavy rain, I was tense; I had the death grip on the motorcycle's grips and my back muscles ached.
The rain continued.
By this point we were in rural Ohio, but every small town seemed like an obstacle course.  For all my planning, I didn't have clear-lens glasses and I couldn't see well with the dark clouds and obscuring water.  Cars and trucks threw huge volumes of water all over everything.  My boots were not waterproof and my feet were freezing.
The rain continued.
Water was ponding in the low lying areas and I wasn't sure how much was too much for my bike's tires.  I pulled over a few times to let cars pass, knowing I was going slower than many car drivers wanted to.  It was too wet to pull out my photocopied maps (this was pre-GPS), so I was unsure if I was even on the right road some of the time.
The rain continued.

Somewhere around the half way point, I pulled into a parking area at the Shawnee State Forest.  This was a largely unimproved area, but there was a very small shelter there - with several inches of water covering the paved floor.  I felt absolutely defeated; I wondered if I was not cut out for the adventure of touring on two wheels.  We were too far to turn around and go home, but I just couldn't imagine continuing on through the relentless rain to the destination.
I noticed something under the water and pulled a large plug of leaves from a drain in the paved floor, water quickly started running down the drain, at least freeing us from standing in water.  If ever so slightly, our situation had improved.  Walking back to the bike and pulling out the damp maps, I made a plan:  Continue on across the Ohio River into West Virginia, find a hotel and get up early the next morning to get to the rafting camp.
Getting back on the bike was not an enticing option, but it was the only choice.
I didn't realize it at the time, but lessons were being learned about touring by motorcycle.
Be flexible.
Every piece of gear matters.
Be prepared to ride in ANY weather.

We continued on through the rain, and crossed the state line into West Virginia.  As we did so, something unexpectedly amazing happened.  The skies dramatically cleared to big puffy clouds and blue sky and it was much warmer.  Rather than stopping or staying on 2-lane roads, I took advantage of the break in the weather and jumped on the interstate, high-tailing it to the campground.
The weather remained blessedly good for the remainder of the day.  There were friends and beer waiting at the campground.  I think it rained again that night, but by that point I was drunk and in a relatively dry tent.

Rafting the next day was fun, although more fun in retrospect than it was at the time.  Our rafting guide nearly flipped us at the first big rapids and I got thrown from the boat.  I wasn't worried about drowning, but after getting back into the raft, I was terrified of something happening that would prevent a safe return home on two wheels.  If I had gotten twisted up on a rock and suffered even a mild sprained ankle, getting both myself and the bike home could become a near impossibility.

Leaving early the next morning, it was cold.  It was cold, cold.  And SO didn't have cold weather gloves.  We ended up stopping at a gas station convenience store and purchasing leather work gloves, which worked for the trip home ... sort of.  We occasionally look back and laugh about those grey work gloves.
Despite the cold, the trip home was wonderful and began to cement my love of motorcycle touring.  Clear skies and riding through some of the most wonderful early summer scenery on little-traveled rural roads was amazing.  At some point I realized that the trip home was all the more extraordinary because of the difficult trip into West Virginia two days previous.

Later that summer, we took another motorcycle trip - this one a multi-day trip through several states.  It was also during a very wet period, but we were slightly better prepared, thanks to lessons during our first trip to West Virginia.

I didn't realize it at the time, but that much rain has actually been rare in the many tens of thousands of miles traveled by motorcycle since.  There have been all-day rains and periods of torrentially bad weather, but a steady improvement in gear and abilities makes inclement weather more tolerable, sometimes even a fun interlude during a trip.

That first trip will always be special.  A trip of that length now would be done with very little planning.  But I miss the anxious excitement and nervous anticipation, paradoxically enjoying motorcycle touring more than ever.
I would never have believed during that first summer that a very wet one-day trip would eventually lead to adventures traveling through all 50 states.

The Sound of Sleeping Dogs

As I write this, I should be deer hunting.  I'll say I feel guilty about not hunting, only because I can't think of a more relevant term other than guilt - I'm sure there is a long German word to describe it that I don't know about.
Past years have taught me that one deer is a reasonable goal, and usually I'm scraping vacation days by now to get that.  This year is different since I have not used many vacation days productively and I've got time to burn.  Since I can be hunting, I somehow feel I must be hunting - one of the reasons I made the decision to no longer bow hunt several years ago.

After getting a deer opening morning and spending the following day getting him in the freezer, I haven't acquired the energy to go back out.
I'm on the edge of getting sick, or maybe getting better.  While restorative, sitting in a treestand may not help what could be a ferocious cold - and hacking out a lung is counterproductive to waiting for a deer.

I picked up True Story by Michael Finkel from the library.  As I paused early in the morning, putting the book down while reading, I realized part of the reason I was so content to stay indoors.  It is more than just because there is now fresh venison in the freezer, or sickness.  I put the book down and the only sound I could hear was the therapeutic sounds of dogs sleeping.
Many of the books I've read this year have been listened to while in a car.  I do like audiobooks, but I'm not sure that listening and reading are equivalent.  Of the books I've actually read, many have been hurry-up-and-read before something else comes up.  I've read some at work this past year - very likely the worst possible manner to read anything.  All the preparation for uninterrupted deer hunting has created some much needed space.
This year has been more than hectic.  Dad's illness and death.  The cycle of work early and sleep early.  The formerly mentioned misuse of vacation allocation.  Even the vacation time used, while restorative, has seemed somehow rushed.  There have been down times, but much of that has been consumed watching TV - a past time I find simultaneously enjoyable and mind numbingly painful.

True Story is a gripping book.  It tells the story of Christian Longo and the murder of his wife and three children.  But the book is about the author, Michael Finkel, nearly as much as it is Longo, as the critical events take place shortly after Finkel is fired from The New York Times and disgraced from the profession of journalism due to fabrication.
What is terrifying about Longo's story is how absolutely normal it seems at times.  But, for a few poor decisions, things might have turned out very different.  There but for the grace of God go I.  Poor decisions are added to poor decisions and things spiral out of control - a train wreck in slow motion.
I looked up what Finkel is doing now, and it appears he is back in at least tepid relations with the field of journalism (not at The Times).  There is some criticism of this, but at least he fully admits his mistakes, and publicly.  The rarity of admition should be somewhat restorative in itself.
Underneath the book is the magma of half truths and small lies that are easy to rationalize and may help smooth over wrinkles in the short term.

Much like my time deer hunting, I thoroughly enjoyed the time reading True Story.  And I know there will be more time for both reading and hunting before the end of the year.
After pausing to listen to the dogs contented breathing, some appliance fan came on somewhere, ending that serene, brief moment, and I returned to reading.

Road Trips and the Return to Work

I recently got back from vacation.  It was a (motorcycle) road trip to somewhere tropical.  Late summer/early fall isn't the typical time to go to these places, but the down season is the best time to travel.  Things are cheaper, hotels more empty, roads less crowded, less kids - there is no down side.

I've toured through 49 states and there have been innumerable stops in towns of all shapes, locations and sizes.  My preference is for moderately small towns.  The really small towns rarely have hotels, or at least don't have a couple hotels and restaurants to choose from.  Bigger cities have very little to offer other than higher prices and maybe ... maybe something more interesting to do.  Smaller areas might require more searching, but the reward is unique sites or discovering hidden jewels.  Historic oddities are everywhere.

One of the things I like about road trips are the longer term connections it creates to places I've been.  Even if it is just a short stop for a meal.  These connections can be tenuous at best, but it makes things more personal when I hear about them, often years later.
Flooding in Minot, North Dakota?  I've been there.
Monkey loose in Valdosta, Georgia?  I've been there.
Wildfire in Lolo, Idaho?  I've been there.
Flash floods in Hilldale, Utah?  I've been there.
Yoga and Beer in Farmington, New Mexico?  I've been there.

Some of these things are not necessarily pleasant, but hearing about these events is more real having been there, even if only briefly.  Hearing about these things also brings back memories of the trip.
A meal in a small cafe in Minot while returning home from Alaska.
Overnight in Valdosta, staying a a great motel, which had questionable reviews, and with a surprisingly good sushi place within walking distance.
Lolo pass has to be one of my favorite motorcycle roads and nearby Missoula a granola paradise.
Being leered at while looking for a restaurant in Hilldale - I guess I asked for that one.
Nice conversation with a cashier in a Farmington convenience store while buying soda and Zingers.

Having driven through areas others avoid also brings serendipity.  Northern Nebraska is extremely pretty.  Situated near the black hills and the badlands, it has some character of both in areas without the dreaded RV traffic.  The vacation paradise of Florida, is surprisingly plain outside of the overcrowded coastal beaches.  I still enjoyed it though.

I was able to mentally break away from work on my recent trip.  The week before was somewhat slow, which made this easier.  There have definitely been vacations where thoughts frequently and painfully returned to work.  I have one candid picture from 2012 which was taken when I am both mentally and physically completely removed form the humdrum of day-in, day-out.  It is probably one of my favorite pictures of me.

But the day before returning to work after the recent tropical vacation was one of near dread.  I could almost see the bureaucratic pettiness of work on the horizon and as I watched reruns of Castle, which would normally sequence the end of a weekend; the end of vacation was imminent.

I've been back at work for a full week and it wasn't too bad.  A few issues piled up and a few unreasonable demands were waiting.  Still, it is amazing how many crises were resolved without any of my involvement.  Manufacturing problems does seem to be a way for some people to justify employment.

I haven't effectively used very much vacation this year.  I've got several more days I have to take before December 31, with more to be carried over to 2016 - and if I ever lose any of it, I'll know my life has gone to a place I don't approve.
That ... will not happen.

Ontario, Oregon?  I've been there.

10,000 Mile Review of the Triumph Trophy SE

I hit 10,000 miles on my blue Triumph Trophy SE a few days ago on the way home from work.  I've had the bike a little over a year at this point and it is time for a real-life review.

The Triumph replaced my ST1300 and while I sometimes miss the Honda, there is no question I like the Trophy more.  It is faster, lighter, more nimble and gets better fuel mileage (not really a critical need for me with motorcycles).  The power of the bike is more usable as well, as even in the upper reaches of the tachometer, the bike gets only very faintly buzzy compared to any other bike I have ridden and owned.  For most day-to-day riding, the 3-cylinder engine is surprisingly smooth and docile.

Since a review after 10,000 track miles would be different than a review after one 10,000-mile trip, I need a disclaimer on how the bike is used.  The bike is used for near-daily transportation in three seasons.  I commute on the bike most of the spring, summer and fall.  I do some recreational riding, but that type of riding is usually coupled with another reason; a quick trip to the store to buy some Easter Peeps candy might end up taking an hour.  I have done only three trips (defined as at least one overnight and hundreds of miles) on the bike.  Since the Goldwing is used for most of my longer distance and 2-up touring, the Trophy has only been in seven states.  I like to ride in the twisty stuff when possible, but since so much of my riding is commuting or interstate riding, the center portion of my tires has worn out much more than the edges.  On that note, tire wear is one of the things I am very happy with.  I had never previously had Pirelli tires on a bike before, but at just over 10,000 miles, I am due for both a front and rear tire at the same time.  I do suspect I'll retread with Angel GT's (maybe).

I have done very little to change the bike over the miles.  I added the hardware and electrics for the Garmin Zumo 660.  On my first trip with the bike, the floppy antenna wagging all over for hours on end was unbelievably maddening.  I tried a few shorty-stout antennas before settling on my home made "bullet" antenna.  And when I say "bullet," I do mean bullet!

The fact that I have done so little to change the bike is because I am really happy with it.  From the factory, it is well laid out and has just about everything I need in a commuter and medium-distance sport tourer.  I have done some really long days in the saddle so I have every reason to believe that it would perform admirably on the long distance as well.
My initial frustration with the cruise control rolling off with the throttle after the first trip has evaporated.  There wasn't any conscious change to make this happen, it was likely more due to become more familiar and comfortable with the bike.

There are a few things I don't like about the bike.  The audio system is a never ending series of glitches.  I rarely use the audio system since I don't have a blue-tooth helmet and the wind noise with the windscreen in the lowest position means it is hard to hear with a full-face helmet.  But, sometimes the audio system doesn't want to come on.  Often, it can't seem to find my USB memory stick with my MP3s on it.  Very often after starting, the warning "Low Voltage, Audio Off" displays for a few seconds after starting (this doesn't have any effect once the bike runs for a few seconds).  I've read these issues are all cured by an upgrade to the audio system firmware which I have yet to have the dealer do.  The Trophy comes equipped with Sirius Satellite radio and I never got this to work during the initial trial period.  I didn't try to hard since the cost model for Sirius is very moronically dumb.  Now Sirius continues to send me notifications and offers by snail mail.  For a while, they were calling me very, very often, which was very, very annoying.  Luckily, they do not have any way to electronically communicate with me.
There have been no other real issues with the bike, but there have been issues that I think happened once or twice, but I can't be sure.  For example, there was one time I glanced down and thought my speedometer was not working.  After checking the road again, followed by down at the speedometer, it was clearly working and I can't be sure whether it really wasn't working previously, or if my mind was playing tricks on me (this happened on a long tiring day on the bike in unfriendly weather).
Other examples of things that I think happened, but can't be sure include:  odd shifting of the transmission - especially when being less than positive with the left foot?  unusual battery draw for a short time when on the trickle charger?  I'm not sure any of these things actually happened, more just sensing something seemed unusual at the time.
Other annoyances:  Oil filter removal can be a bit of a trick, but once figured out it isn't too hard; I'm convinced that one can not have too many oil filter wrenches.  Getting the bike on the center stand is not as easy as with some bikes, but is by no means as difficult as I've seen some complain about.  There is a front "clunk" when stopping which I believe is actually the glovebox door lock mechanism - I barely even notice this anymore so I must have gotten used to it.  I still think the bike sounds a little bit tractory at idle.  At-speed full throttle, however, is a lyric growl!

While the above text details some minor issues and annoyances, my overall impression is that this has been one of the most enjoyable sport-tourer motorcycles I've ridden.  I love the linear power delivery and at-speed acceleration is predictable and quick.  I'm not sure if the moveable saddlebags are a gimmick or real, but the handling of the bike is phenomenal given its weight.  Braking performance is above average for a touring bike; I've only had the ABS come on once so it is very unintrusive.  I only know of traction control coming once as well on a very slippery tar road snake.
Fuel mileage has been good relative to other touring bikes I have owned, ranging from the low to mid 50s MPG.  Comfort level is far above average.  The Trophy is probably not quite as comfortable as the Goldwing, but I have done back-to-back 11-hour days and felt like I could have easily done more, or gotten back on the next day without issues.  I actually prefer the riding position of the Trophy over the more sedate Goldwing.
Aesthetics are subjective, but the bike looks fast when it is standing still.  The blue color looks great in the sun or the shade.  Since I had most of the fairing removed to install the GPS hardware, I was pleasantly surprised at how beefy the hardware was the holds the bike together.  Much of it is actually fastened with real screws and bolts instead of clips, that while functional and do work but do not inspire confidence.
It is also nice to ride a sport-touring bike that is not yet another BMW R1200RT...

So, with 10,000 miles on the clock, I'm more than happy with my Triumph Trophy SE.  Time and miles will tell if a tripling or a sextuplet of these miles will bring out any issues with the beast or if it will increase the enjoyment.  I strongly suspect the latter.

Yes, just to see this...

"You came all this way just to see this?" 
That question was posed by a tall blonde woman who had a bit of a blue tongue and too much foundation when we were chatting briefly in Centralia, Pennsylvania.  It seemed incomprehensible that I had just ridden my motorcycle 11 hours for "this."  Although, she had talked a friend into going four hours for the same purpose and I can only imagine that they were headed home that same day.

2014 finally ends with my last of that year's vacation consumed.
"but what can you expect these days? ... Company policy." - Mugwump

It is amazing how much clarity comes form several days of not working.  I supposed I get used to five days in, two out, but the last 8 days have been like mental floss; cleaning the detritus that can't get cleared by the typical weekend.

"Your're missin' the whole point, Ed." - Lewis
The day in, day out, year in, year out creates a numbness, too easy to get caught up in the eddy currents.  Things seem like they are moving at a rapid pace, but in reality not much is going anywhere.  My time at work has a cost; they pay me to be there and I try to do the right thing while I'm there.  My time outside of work has no cost since it would cost too much - there is nothing more valuable than my time that is really mine.
Tomorrow I'll be back at work for one day, before restarting a full week a few days later.
"There's no end to it." - Bobby

I ended my time off with a bang, by going target shooting for a while.  It was another amazing late spring morning and surprisingly, I had the range to myself.  It just doesn't get much better than that, especially when the targets all seemed to be in the right place.
My eight days allowed me time to do everything I was hoping to and then some.  Sometimes, life smiles and things can work out.
Now, desparately fighting the natural neural tendencies to think ahead to what is coming...
"But the race is over." - Hotelier
"Not for me it isn't!" - Raoul Duke

I think I told her I was looking for an excuse to go to Pennsylvania coal country, but I should have proudly told the woman standing on a destroyed section of PA-61 covered in graffiti, "Yes, I came all this way just for this."  But, that would not have been entirely true.  The destination wasn't nearly as important as the act getting there.  The clarity of a few days out of work, riding a motorcycle hundreds of miles through cold temperatures, rain, warm temperatures and sun make the destination one that everyone should go to.  Because it is there and because more of life should look squalid to the outside world.

"Actual Happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery." - Aldous Huxley

April Vacation

In the day in, day out, year in, year out that is life, the end of April 2015 brings the requirement to use the final days of my 2014 vacation.  Six days of vacation and 8 out of the office with no agenda.  Well, maybe more accurately an evolving agenda.
I started the vacation's first morning by reading American Hunter, the NRA magazine.  Then I finished listening to the book Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris.  This is an almost incomprehensible pairing.  While the NRA is, in theory, a single-issue non-partisan organization, the positions of the two major US political parties means that the NRA is somewhat right leaning.  Anybody who has read anything by David Sedaris knows that he leans somewhat left.  But, the magazine was there and I had started to listen to Diabetes on the way home from Michigan two weeks ago and didn't finish it before I got home.  I've also, on occasion, listened to NPR while on the way to the range to target shoot, so the dichotomy is nothing new.
I've read just about every book David Sedaris has written and have enjoyed them.  This book did take a more decidedly political slant which I found a little sad.  Between that and the bizarre fictional-story end of the book, it almost seemed like his material was running thin.  I read When You Are Engulfed in Flames last year and thought it was great so I'll hold out any long-term judgement for now.

Later in the day, I got a tattoo.  This was a tattoo that was almost five years in the making, so was actually kind of momentous, but there will be plenty of time to talk about that later - maybe after it heals.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with my time off.  I have some ideas, but I probably need a day or two to decompress from work.  Sitting around sounded depressingly fine initially, but the urge to travel grows with each hour.  A plan is forming; I need to convince the weather and timing to cooperate.
It would be nice to think that weather this time of year is averagely warm and dry, but average in April really means highly variable.

In a lot of ways, waiting until the witching hour to take my vacation is not smart.  Yet, the "forced" time off this time of year is a both a good respite and good mental preparation that spring will lead to summer with more to come...