Small but Capable
I have a Honda Trail 125, which is a tiny motorcycle with only 8 horsepower. I got it with the intention of taking big trips on the smallest viable platform. With a tailwind, going downhill, the top speed is only 55 mph, but it's great on gas and can carry a surprising amount of cargo. I've outfitted the bike with a small front rack above the headlight (perfect for tying down a tent), a bag mounted on the center section of the frame (the "step-through" design allows for a decently sized bag), and a milk crate bolted onto the rear cargo rack. All in all, I'm able to carry enough gear to go camping comfortably (at least for me)!
Distance over Time
Such a small and slow bike cannot go on the freeway, so for any
out-of-town trips, I have to rely on back roads and older state highways. That said, even these old
state highways usually have a speed limit of 65 mph, which the Trail 125 can never hope to reach (at
least not in its stock form). That means, I'm usually sitting at 15-20 mph below the speed limit,
which is an inconvenience to other drivers and truthfully a bit dangerous for myself. I had to keep an
eye out for drivers behind me and pull over onto the shoulder whenever traffic got too backed up with no
way to pass.
My route would take me from Tulsa to Waurika, Oklahoma. Skirting
freeways and taking as many backroads as possible, I was looking at about 250 miles. And considering my
lower speed, as well as factoring in stops, I had 8 hours of riding on the agenda!
The Journey
To this point, the longest I have ever ridden in one day was about 6 hours, when
I took a much faster bike from Tulsa to Dallas. That was on a supremely comfortable and capable Harley
Pan America. Doing 8 hours on the Trail 125's seat was not very appealing, so I got a well-recommended
affordable aftermarket seat that was wider and lower (the Diabolus seat), and then further supplemented
that with an AirHawk cushion. Overall, this was a pretty good combo, and I was able to vary the seat feel
by inflating and deflating the AirHawk to different levels over the day. However, being on a small bike
(and being a fairly large guy), there's no way to fully eliminate discomfort, so I had to take breaks to
stretch every 1-2 hours.
For hydration, I had a 2 liter water bladder in a slim Klim backpack (also held
my rain gear), so I didn't have to pull over every time I wanted a drink. Thankfully, it wasn't too hot,
and I wasn't baking in my riding gear (ATGATT!), but it was still pretty
exhausting to ride for such a long time. Constantly being alert of the surrounding traffic and road
conditions (those state highways are not maintained nearly as well as the interstates), can
really take it out of you!
The Sights and the Stops
My first stop was a gas station in Olive, Oklahoma (cute name), which is an "unincorporated community." Though it was only about 40 miles into my trip, it had already been an hour of riding, and I needed to stretch more than I needed any gas. I stopped for lunch in Prague (pronounced like pray-guh here in Oklahoma) and had an onion burger, which is a pretty high contender for being Oklahoma's state dish.
I then passed through Seminole Nation to Ada, then through Chickasaw Nation, stopping in Ratliff City to briefly rest. I rode through the town of Comanche, near where I got as close to windmills as I've ever been (they're so big!), and finally made it to Waurika, setting up camp at Waurika Lake. Overall, the trip took me 8 hours, but that's just the nature of riding a motorcycle that goes so slowly.
Waurika Lake
The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers maintains this recreation area, and there are
picnic areas, hiking trails, and even a marina and boat ramp. What else is there? Bugs.
Lots and lots of bugs that really want nothing more but to fly into your mouth and eyes! Luckily I always
include DEET bug spray in my "default" camping loadout, pretty much the only thing that works. However,
I didn't get total relief from the bugs until I was inside my tent.
The park is beautiful, and being in the middle of the week, I basically had the
camp area to myself! I took a little drive around the area on my bike, looping around the day-use picnic
areas, the boats and RV's sitting at the marina, and across the bridge overlooking the lake (so
windy up there!).
I set up camp in the Moneka Park campground, pitching my tiny tent (Big Agnes Fly
Creek UL1, very small and light to pack, but sufficiently comfortable for one person)
and immediately got to cooking dinner. A coworker actually gifted me some freeze-dried camp meals from
Mamoo's Camp Kitchen, a small but well-beloved
alternative to the mainstays like Mountain House (I had the Beefy Enchilada, which was delicious and
filling).
In an effort to save space and weight (top priority on the Trail 125),
I packed a pair of Birkenstock Arizona EVA sandals (affectionately dubbed "Birkencrocs"). These
made for decent campsite shoes, but I quickly found out hiking was out of the question, so I didn't do
as much exploring as I would have liked to do :( If I could do it over, I would have just attached a
pair of hiking shoes to the milk crate with a carabiner.
Sleeping with Coyotes
Being nearly the only person in the campgrounds meant that wildlife was more
present than I usually see in such places. Lots of deer were about, jumping around and playing. I swear
I heard cows mooing, but never saw any, so maybe it was the deer (I don't know enough to say one way
or another). As the sun went down, I saw possums waddling around, and met a new kind of bug:
Hyles lineata, or white-lined sphinx, sometimes called a hummingbird moth. This thing was
obnoxious! I was already in my tent (escaping the mosquitos and reading a book), when I heard what
sounded like an RC airplane about 6 inches from my head. This moth flies in a weird way (and not
very well!), causing a loud sound with its wings as it repeatedly bashed itself against my tent.
It's completely harmless, but hearing that rapid beating-buzzing sound for the first time was unnerving,
but not nearly as bad as the next neighbor!
Coyotes are pretty common in much of North America, so hearing
the yips and howls wasn't a surprise at all. If anything, it's part of the soundtrack that confirms that
I'm in the "Great Outdoors." However, since I was the only camper in the area, I think they didn't feel
so concerned about keeping their distance. Over the night, the howls got closer and closer, until they were
closer than I'd ever heard before. Then I heard what sounded like steps in the next campsite over. That
was much too close for my liking! I shouted and waved my lights around, then got out of the tent to
quickly build a fire. There were some sticks already piled by the firepit, and it was dry, so I was able
to get a fire going quickly. I didn't hear any more activity nearby, except for a scared skunk
(guess how I knew it was a skunk...), so the late night fire and my silly shouting must have
worked.
Coming back Home
After a pretty lousy sleep, I woke up to some light drizzle. Once the sound of
soft pattering registered in my mind, I leapt up and packed everything as quickly as I could! I stuffed
everything into garbage bags to ensure water-proofing (I organize everything in dry bags, but wanted to
be certain), then headed out. The drizzle quickly became a heavy rain, paired with strong winds, making
for some challenging riding. For the first hour-and-a-half of my way back home, it rained steadily.
Wearing proper rain gear absolutely makes the difference! I stayed completely dry, so I could
concentrate on reacting to fluctuating traction and dodging puddles.
On the way back, I had a number of people asking me about the bike and how it
was having to ride in the rain or riding so far. Making these brief connections, reminiscing with a
stranger about their own motorcycle experiences really makes the trip enjoyable. Several people either
had or knew someone who rode a Honda Trail 90 or 110 (the predecessors to my bike), and it was
a lot of fun to hear about those past adventures! It's really true that
"You meet the nicest people on a Honda!" I know that wasn't the intent of the
ad slogan, but I've met a lot of friendly faces riding my Trail 125.
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