Observations from a three-day, three-time-zone motorcycle ride

This is not a long list of tips for better long-distance touring. (We've done that story, as well as a reminder of the essentials you shouldn't forget to take.) These are just observations — and reminders, since you've probably read them before right here at Common Tread, in one form or another — fresh from my long-distance ride this week.

Rule #1: Know thyself

In the excitement of imagining a trip, it's easy to get overly ambitious and expect to do too many miles, hit too many destinations and end up feeling rushed and tired. I usually advise scaling back whatever plans you come up with initially.

Now I'm going to tell you how and why I went against that advice on this trip.

After two days of riding with other motorcycle writers at the Kawasaki Versys 1000 SE LT+ press launch, I would be riding home solo on our long-term test bike. In addition to choosing a route, I had one important decision to make: four longish days or three long days?

Originally, I'd planned four. But the way the stars lined up, I reconsidered. There was a storm system moving east ahead of me and another would follow behind me, but I would have sunny and somewhat cool temperatures all the way home. I had no commitments along the way except stopping in Kansas City to have lunch or dinner with Common Tread contributor Mark Gardiner.

I'm an early riser anyway, but that was exaggerated because my body refused to shift off Eastern time, so I was waking up ridiculously early in Arizona, making a dawn start no problem. I wanted to take my time and do some sightseeing the first day, while I was in territory new to me, but I also knew that once I got to Illinois, I'd just want to get on I-70 and blaze my way home. Been there and seen that. In between, I knew I could cross Kansas on U.S. 50 and still make almost as good time as I would on an interstate back east. (Interstates are great for making time, but they all look the same, while the older two-lanes still let you see some local personality.)

So I did the opposite of what I'd normally recommend and rode the 2,032.1 miles home to Ohio from Flagstaff, Arizona, in three days. Was it the right decision? Yes. The schedule pushed me but didn't break me. I was a good kind of tired at the end of each day, but never unhappy.

If the weather, route or commitments along the way had been different, I would have done four days. The key is knowing yourself and being honest with yourself about what will be fun and what will feel like a forced march. Eight out of 10 times I would have chosen four days, but this was an exception.

If you're not comfortable, it's not fun

If riding your motorcycle isn't fun, why are you doing it? And if you're not comfortable, you're not having fun.

Maybe you like taking a short ride at home without a helmet, for example. In Kansas, a cluster of dried mud fell off a farm truck and pelted me like motocross roost, and closer to home a car on the highway threw up some piece of road debris that hit my faceshield and would have probably sent me to the nearest clinic for stitches in my right cheek if I hadn't had face protection. Beyond that, will you still enjoy the breeze in your face after 400 miles of wind noise? I packed what I thought were plenty of ear plugs and I still used them all. Noise can sap your energy just as much as heat or cold, so I try to prepare for all three.

I didn't have to deal with heat on this trip, but the Versys' thermometer did claim temperatures in the 20s as I crossed the Continental Divide. Having heated grips, handguards and a big windscreen meant I had a little more flexibility, but I still was glad I had multiple pairs of gloves for varying conditions.

A lot of it comes down to choosing flexible gear. We were comparing notes in the parking lot at the press intro and another rider noted that I had packed the lightest of anyone in the group, even though I had the longest ride home. That proves you don't have to overload the bike if you choose carefully, but you definitely should make sure you have what you need to stay comfortable.

Know when to be flexible

We've written about traveling by motorcycle from the perspective of the OCD rider who wants everything planned out in advance and from the viewpoint of a rider who prefers to wander with minimal plans. Whichever kind you are, there are times when you have to be flexible.

One of my favorite sayings of life advice is "Be stubborn with your dream but flexible with your path." That can be applied to motorcycle travel, too. Even the OCD rider who plans it all in advance will have to make adjustments, and if stubbornly sticking to a plan causes you to miss something you'll regret later, that's not a winning deal.

For example, I don't particularly like riding at night, especially in remote rural areas. Late on my first day, that's just what I was doing, as I paid the price for sightseeing and enjoying two-lane back roads across Arizona and northern New Mexico all day. About 13 hours after I started that morning, I still had another hour to ride and darkness was falling.

But if I hadn't stopped to spend five minutes in awe of this glorious moonrise and snap a photo for posterity, I would have regretted it. Sometimes you have to be flexible with your path.

I hope you are planning a great summer motorcycle trip, and may your personal path leave you with lasting memories long after the saddle soreness fades.