For the last several years we have set a goal of riding 10,000 miles during the year. So far we have came up short each year. Even with us making a trip to Florida in March and me making another solo trip in early April our total mileage for the year was down from 2007! Julie has said that mileage totals aren't important, that the good times spent with family and friends and those that we have when just she and I venture out are all that matters. She is of course right. But I'm still going to shoot for that 10K mark again in 2009! Having said that we have a few ideas for rides in mind for this year that should help us reach that goal.
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Sometime early this spring I'm planning to make another trip down to Clewiston, Florida to visit my Dad. As of this moment the idea is to just take what has become my 'usual' route down and back and spend as much time as I can with Dad. I have been looking at alternative routes, but at this point it's still all in the planning stages.
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Bryan and I have decided to try for an IronButt ride sometime this summer. For those that don't know, there is an organization call the IronButt Association that is made up of hardcore long distance riders. In order to become a 'member' of this association a rider must first complete a ride that covers at least 1000 miles in less than 24 hours. The current record is held by a local state representative from our area named Dale Fowell. A couple of years ago Dale covered over 32,000 mile in 30 days. Bryan and I have no illusions of grander, we will be planning a route that allows us to safely complete a 1000 mile trip with out getting too far from home. This way we can attempt it over a week-end, and if we can't complete it we won't be very far from home no matter where we stop. We are working on several routes now and nothing has been finalized.
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Last year we had hoped to ride over to visit my sister and her husband in northern Alabama and never got it worked out. Your on the radar screen for this year too sis.
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We have an idea for a ride that we call "The Battleship Tour" which is actually inappropriately named. The battleship USS North Carolina is harbored in Wilmington, North Carolina and the aircraft carrier Yorktown is in Charleston, South Carolina. Our idea is to visit and tour both vessels during the same trip. We are still working on the logistics for this trip though as the distances involved along with the time required to enjoy both ships would use up a full week-end. We would prefer to tie this in with a trip that enables us to explore some new roads and areas, but it may be time prohibitive. We'll just have to see what happens.
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Bryan wants to go west of the Mississippi river and I really would like to help him achieve that goal. The problem is of course time. For the most part we are week-end warriors and even though we could always set sail for the muddy river, then turn around and set sail right back that seems a bit pointless. This trip will probably have to wait until we have a week or more to spend and make a real road trip out of.
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Our anniversary trip as well as a couple of other short trips into West Virginia has got us interested in making some more trips there. We have discussed taking Jordan and Bryan with us over a long week-end to see among other things the Greenbank radio telescope and the Cass Railroad.
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Although we have pretty much been on every inch of the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Skyline Drive by now, we have yet to ride both from one end to the other un-interrupted. I feel like we could get this done over a week-end, especially during the long days of summer. This rates high on my list, but Julie is a bit burnt out on the BRP. So I guess we'll see what happens there.
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A few times last year we randomly picked a road, actually a secondary highway, that we got on and stayed on as long as we could before turning around to come home. I'd like to do more of that this year. Hwy 8 and US 421 come immediately to mind, maybe even US 52.
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I don't know how, or where, but someway or another I want to make some tire tracks in two new states this year.
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That's about it, for now. Obviously we won't get it all done, but there's always 2010!
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Bruce
2008 - Year in Review
-The dawn of the new year opened new chapters in not only my life, but that of my family as well. The first was the possibility of a new job at another motorcycle dealership. Another was the introduction of long distance motorcycle touring to Bryan and Jordan as they joined Julie and I on a week long adventure to Florida and back.
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In January a long time friend, racer and race promoter, Mike Allen, contacted me with the possibility of going to work with him at a dealership he was considering buying. By the end of March everything fell into place and it wasn't long before I found myself at Forsyth Motosports in Winston Salem, NC.
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This was a great opportunity for me in many respects because not only was I going to be working with Mike at a truly great dealership, he had also hired another long time friend and former co-worker Allen Evans too. For the first time since what Allen and I refer to as the "Glory Days" of Piedmont Honda, the shop where we got our start in the motorcycle industry, we would be not only working together again, but we'd be with a man as driven and passionate about the sport and industry as we are.
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Thanks Mike.
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Forsyth Motosports - Winston Salem, NC-
Mike Allen
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Allen Evans
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For our first 'official' ride of 2008 we planned a trip down to Clewiston, Florida to visit my Dad and take in the sights. We planned to go during the kids spring break in early March, which we thought would provide us with moderate temperatures and good weather for the whole trip.
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We thought.
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The FZ6 and the Nomad in full tour mode-
We left on a beautiful spring North Carolina day and were greeted with frost on our first morning on the road. The rest of the trip down to the town I grew up in we were treated to more wonderful days and nights, but the trip back was another story. We rode in rain for the better part of one day, and ran into snow the next. After holding up in a dumpy motel the rest of that day and night we rode over 300 miles in some of the coldest (but dry!) temperatures we've ever ridden in. It was miserable to say the least.
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But the rest of the trip was most definitely a memory maker and one I'm oh so glad that we made. You can find a complete trip report with photos in another section of the blog.
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Bryan, Jordan, Julie and I at the Georgia Welcome Center on US Hwy 301
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Bryan became a full fledged street rider/tourer in 2008. He not only went on his first real long distance ride but also spent a lot of time riding in the mountains and foot hills of the Carolina's. He and Jordan as well as his pal Josh and a few others made many day trips from Charlotte into the western Carolina mountains. On several occasions he also graced his parents with his company and we went on several day trips too.
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Josh's GSXR600 and Bryan's FZ6 on the BRP
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Off Road riding will always be special and enjoyable to Bryan and I, but I think we've both found that we enjoy seeking out twisty mountain roads and long days in the saddle of a street bike too.
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For 2008 Julie and I found ourselves on the tail end of a little mileage game we play with Bryan. We, well actually his mother and he, began razzing each other about who would end up with the most miles ridden in 2008. Momma rules applied and she was given credit for all miles accumulated on the Nomad whether she was on board or not.
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Even after making two trips to Florida and back as well as a few long week-end rides and several day trips Bryan officially kicked our butts. He logged over 9,000 miles where Julie and I brought up the rear at just under 8,000.
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Harrumph. We'll get you next year big boy.
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In search of twisty mountain roads...
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We all reached another milestone in life as Bryan turned 21 years old in 2008. It was liberating for him and traumatizing for us as Julie and I had to deal with two realities. Our son is growing up and we're getting old. *sigh*
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Bryan shares a birthday candle with Tippi
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We went on several trips with our pals Teddy and Tim, a couple of which found us going across "The Snake", a section of US 421 outside of Mountain City, Tennessee that ends up in a little place called Shady Valley, Tennessee. There is so much good riding in that area that we didn't mind going a few times so that we could explore roads and areas we hadn't previously seen.
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"The Country Store", Shady Valley, Tennessee
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We continued another family tradition of going riding on Fathers Day. Hey, who am I to complain? This year we rode the BRP south to Linville Falls, then wound our way off the mountain to Lake Lure and took the long way back home. It was the best Fathers Day so far, but not by much because they're all great! Can't wait until 2009!
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Two generations of J.B. McCrary's. Is the world ready for it?
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Momma and her boy -
Another absolutely great ride was the forth of July week-end trip we took to Helen, Georgia. Jordan and Bryan accompanied Julie and I on this one and a great time was had by all. Helen is a trip in itself and a great destination, but the riding and scenery of the north Georgia mountains has to be experienced to be believed too.
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There are lots of photos and a complete ride report on this trip too elsewhere in the blog.
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The interesting buildings in Helen, Georgia
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Bryan, Tim, Teddy and Julie yuk it up in a Waffle House parking lot where we gathered up for another trip into the Tennessee mountains
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For our 25th wedding anniversary Julie and I did what we love to do most. Go on a road trip. We spent three days exploring West Virginia and riding roads and seeing sights we've never seen before. It was great! A full trip report is also included in the blog. Be sure and check out the GBT.
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How that woman has put up with me for 25 years and still manages to smile is beyond me-
Bryan and I caught our first motorcycle road race in 2008. We went to the "Big Kahuna" AMA national in Danville, Virginia. To say we were amazed and impressed is an understatement!
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The team Jordan Suzuki's lead the first lap at Virginia International Raceway
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We also made it to the very first drag race held at the new "Z-Max Dragway" outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. Bryan and I are big time fans of pro drag racing and nitro junkies of the highest order. It's great to finally have national event this close and we plan on being regulars to the race.
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The Z-Max Dragway is a world class facility that all other dragstrips will be measured against from now on
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The last trip of the year was our annual 'leaf peeping' trip to the mountains in the fall. Bryan, Teddy, Tim, Julie and I got together and rode into the northern North Carolina mountains and then down to Grandfather mountain near Boone, North Carolina.
The colors varied widely as the cold temperatures hadn't really set in and the water tables varied from area to area. Still it was a beautiful ride all in all and a good time was had by all.
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Bryan, Julie, Tim and Teddy taking in the fall colors near the Linville Falls Viaduct outside of Boone, North Carolina
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I hope you all enjoy seeing the pictures and reading the reports of our trips in 2008. We had a ball and enjoy sharing them with you.
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Here's looking forward to many more in 2009!
Bruce
Leaf Peepin' In The North Carolina Mountains - October 12th, 2008
One of our yearly traditions is to plan and make at least one trip into a specific area of the mountains to see the fall colors at their peak. This can be harder than you might think. Local television stations give updates on dates and locations, but it's pretty much a guessing game. Then there is the timing issue. Sometimes the colors hit their peak during the week so being week-end warriors that can mean we hit an area just before or just after that magical time.
Usually we'll try to make at least two if not three trips to various spots along the Smokey's increasing our odds a bit. This year things weren't working out that way and we ended up with one week-end where our buds Teddy & Tim, Bryan and Julie & I could all get together and go for a day ride.
We decided to go up Hwy 16 and the northern North Carolina mountains. Our first stop was near Jefferson, North Carolina at the Mount Jefferson State Natural Area. Teddy & Tim had been there before but Julie, Bryan and I had never seen it. Tim said there were some great views of the area at and near the top of the park, which would give us an idea of which direction to go from there.
Unusually warm temps for the mountains in the fall.
We pretty much had the place to ourselves the whole time we were there.
Various views of the mountains and valley.
Teddy and Julie with a case of the silly's.
Todd's General Store and Resteraunt.
If you can't find what you need at Todd's, just walk up the street to the Mercantile store.
There was plenty of 'Leaf Peepers' on the BRP.
The overlook was as crowed as I've ever seen it.
Teddy and Tim.
The mountainside just south and above the Linn Cove Viaduct.
The Linn Cove Viaduct.
The rugged hillside next to the Viaduct.
Looking out towards Boone, North Carolina.
The colors were breathtaking and these photos don't really do them justice.
Usually we'll try to make at least two if not three trips to various spots along the Smokey's increasing our odds a bit. This year things weren't working out that way and we ended up with one week-end where our buds Teddy & Tim, Bryan and Julie & I could all get together and go for a day ride.
We decided to go up Hwy 16 and the northern North Carolina mountains. Our first stop was near Jefferson, North Carolina at the Mount Jefferson State Natural Area. Teddy & Tim had been there before but Julie, Bryan and I had never seen it. Tim said there were some great views of the area at and near the top of the park, which would give us an idea of which direction to go from there.
Unusually warm temps for the mountains in the fall.
We pretty much had the place to ourselves the whole time we were there.
Various views of the mountains and valley.
Teddy and Julie with a case of the silly's.From our vantage point on the mountain it appeared that the peak colors were still at the higher elevations so we left Mount Jefferson headed in the general direction of Boone. Initially we were on Hwy 88 for a while but Tim knows the area pretty well and took us 'off the beaten path' and into some of the most spectacular parts of the Smokey Mountains I've ever seen. Places that you might not normally find or see unless you were just out for a ride.
We turned down this skinny-bitty little road that looked to me like would either lead us to downtown No Whereville or dead end and I was close. It was as close to the middle of no where as I have ever been in the mountains and it was GREAT! We stopped in this little wide spot in the road whose name escapes me, but that held fascination to us all.
Todd's General Store and Resteraunt. If you can't find what you need at Todd's, just walk up the street to the Mercantile store. Shortly after leaving Todd's place we had one of those unique experiances that only seem to happen while we're riding. I have no idea what road we were on or really even exactly where we were, what I can tell you is that we were on a typical mountain road that wound and twisted its way along the peaks, valleys and foothills. We were easing along just enjoying the beautiful day and even more spectacular scenery when all of a sudden I got that feeling that something was behind us. At first I just scanned my mirrors and didn't see anything. Then about the same time that I noticed Bryan and Tim turning around to take a look behind them I heard a very strange sound. It was like a deep whining or maybe woshing noise. I turned around to take a peak and what I saw took my breath!
There was a giant military jet cargo plane apparently flying nap of the earth manuevers in the valley between us and the next peak over! If I'm not mistaken it was a C-17 Globemaster, and trust me when I tell you that it was not only barely off the ground, it was barely missing the mountain side! We all watched in amazment as it wound it's way around the foothills and peaks and was out of sight in a matter of moments. At that point I think we all were waiting to see a fireball in the distance, but thankfully and amazingly we didn't. The thing just vanished into the foothills...
Way cool.
As we wound our way through the mountains and foothills we found ourselves near Grandfather Mountain. The urge to stop hit me, but when we saw the crowds of people waiting to get in it quicky passed. We ended up on the Blue Ridge Parkway heading north and were just be-boping along when all of a sudden the colors just jumped out at us. For some reason this one particular area right around whats known as the Linn Cove Viaduct was bursting with fall colors. We found a place to stop and park at the Yonahloosee Overlook and grabbed our cameras.
There was plenty of 'Leaf Peepers' on the BRP.
The overlook was as crowed as I've ever seen it.
Teddy and Tim.
The mountainside just south and above the Linn Cove Viaduct.
The Linn Cove Viaduct.
The rugged hillside next to the Viaduct.
Looking out towards Boone, North Carolina.
The colors were breathtaking and these photos don't really do them justice.
Interesting rock faces at the Yonahlossee Overlook.
After taking several pictures and just hanging out for a while we got back on the bikes and started for home. It was a wonderful day and a great ride that was enjoyed by all. I've been slack about posting to the site and as I sit here remembering the trip I am amazed that this was almost 3 months ago! I can't remember the exact milage, seems like it was almost 350 though, but it really doesn't matter because as I said, it was a great ride.
Now we're just waiting on spring...
Bruce
The Big Kuhuna Road Race - Danville, Va. - August 17th, 2008
I got a phone call one afternoon at work from Brian Steele. Brian is our sales rep for Tucker Rocky Distributing but more than that, he is as a motorcycle nut, road racing enthusiast and all around nice guy. He called to ask if I was going to the Big Kahuna road race in Danville, Va. over the week-end. I told him that I knew it was going on, but hadn't really given it much thought because the tickets were a bit high.
He laughed and asked me if I would go if I had free tickets.
Well heck yeah!
My pal Brian (whom I'm blatantly patting on the back here) had a few guest passes furnished through his company and was being kind enough to give us the hook up for the race.
During our phone call he also asked me if we'd be riding up, I told him I really hadn't given that any thought and he told me that we really should. "They treat you special when you ride in."
Well OK then. Enough tickets came my way that Bryan was able to come, plus we invited Tim and Bryan's pal Kel from school.
Bryan nor I had ever been to a motorcycle road race, but as my young'un told his Granddaddy one time, "We have a passion for anything with two wheels." so we were both pretty excited to have the opportunity to be able to go. Especially to an AMA Pro National at that! Niether of us had ever been to VIR either and had both heard great things about it and were anxious to see it as well.
That Sunday Tim, Bryan and I left the house riding up I-85 to Greensboro, the took US 29 north. We stopped in Brown Summit so that we could meet up with Kel and another friend in Kel's car, and JP Wise a friend and co-worker who was riding his super sweet Ducati 1098. Once we all gathered up we headed out on 29 again, heading for Danville, Va. and VIR.
VIR, or the Virginia International Raceway, is located outside of Danville, just off hwy 158. We had directions, so it was easy to find. It wouldn't have been a problem if we hadn't had them though, all we would have had to do was follow all the motorcycles that were on 158!
As we rode up the driveway to the facility I couldn't help but be amazed, it was more like a country club than a race track. Freshly paved roads, cut and trimed grass along the side, natural wooded terrain on either side greated us and we hadn't even gotten to the ticket booth!
Once we did, there were a few cars and trucks in line ahead of us. I was about to pull up close to the truck in front of me when a couple of folks at the ticket booth walked out from the building, pointed at us and motioned us to get out of line and pull forward. I did, and the rest of the gang, except for Kel and his bud, rolled right up to the gate and after showing our passes, were motioned through ahead of everyone else!
Cool!
We rode for what seemed like a good ways down another beautifully landscaped area on a new road, at each intersection and turn were VIR workers who were waving and speaking to us as we rode past. I noticed a bridge ahead and what was obviously the facility on the other side of it as well as parking. Crossing the bridge I first noticed that we were going over the race track, then two bikes came flying by and passing directly under us! I keyed up the CB and asked Bryan if he had seen that and he told me he definately we did and that we needed to go park, fast!
Hot Damn! Racing!
As we crossed the bridge more workers were there and motioning for us to keep going. We kept going past where all the cars were being parked and kept getting closer to the race track and pits!
When we came to the vendors area there was a sign that said "Motorcycle Parking" but there was a barracade in the drive. A worker came out and told me to keep going, the lot was full, but they had a treat for us. Riding on, and being ushered by the workers, we rode right into the pit area!
As we entered the pits we were motioned over to an open area between paved roads. We were on a really nice hard packed sandy gravel surface that turned out to be unused pit stalls. They were parking the bikes in rows in this space and a worker motioned me up to where he was. As I got closer he spread his feet apart, but kept his heels together making a "V" and pointing at the ground.
"OK dude, if your brave enough..." I thought and put the Nomad's front wheel directly between his feet. "Hey! How ya doing?" he asked and then moved to put a kickstand pad benieth my kickstand before I even made a move for it.
How cool! Everyone else came in too quick for him to position like that, but he hurriedly went around to our group offering pads and welcoming us to VIR.
I was impressed, and I hadn't even gotten off the bike yet.
After taking afew minutes to change into some walking shoes, stow boots, jackets and helmets and get out camera and phones, we were ready to go.
Now, I'm not going to pretend to know anything at all about road racing or the players in AMA road racing. So I won't even try to give a race recap or report. You can visit the AMA website for that. Instead, I'm just going to share some of the photos we took and comment on them as we go.
Lets go racing!
The vendor area and motorcycle parking.
There were tons of bikes riden in with almost every brand and model represented.
The parking lot was a bike show in itself.
Overview of the pit area. We were parked in front of that yellow truck with the two EZ ups.
One of the spectator areas.
Jumbotrons showing the TV broadcast. This is between turns 3 and 4.
Looking over turn 4 towards turn 5 and the back 'straight'. Notice the condos in the background.
Looking back on the same spectator area.
It was a 'typical' race in some respects. This is a privateer Super Sport racers pit area.
More or less stock bike raced out of the back of a van. You gotta love it.
These guys were pitted directly across from where we were parked.
Cool bikes and a nice pit set up.
They're from Wisconsin. Could you tell?
The Attack Kawasaki Super Stock pits.
More of the Attack team.
Factory Kawasaki semi.
Kawaski works bikes in the garage area.
Team Yamaha's garage stall.
Factory Honda semi.
Honda works bikes in the garage area.
Ducati's team truck and pit area.
"Da'yaaammmnn"
RedBull/KTM Rookie Challenge pits.
There was the usual (we understand) gathering of pit tootsies, race queens and umbrella girls.
Trophy Girl.
A local motorcycle shop co-sponsored the event and used this Kawasaki Mule to transport VIP's around.
Interesting place to keep a cell phone.
He laughed and asked me if I would go if I had free tickets.
Well heck yeah!
My pal Brian (whom I'm blatantly patting on the back here) had a few guest passes furnished through his company and was being kind enough to give us the hook up for the race.
During our phone call he also asked me if we'd be riding up, I told him I really hadn't given that any thought and he told me that we really should. "They treat you special when you ride in."
Well OK then. Enough tickets came my way that Bryan was able to come, plus we invited Tim and Bryan's pal Kel from school.
Bryan nor I had ever been to a motorcycle road race, but as my young'un told his Granddaddy one time, "We have a passion for anything with two wheels." so we were both pretty excited to have the opportunity to be able to go. Especially to an AMA Pro National at that! Niether of us had ever been to VIR either and had both heard great things about it and were anxious to see it as well.
That Sunday Tim, Bryan and I left the house riding up I-85 to Greensboro, the took US 29 north. We stopped in Brown Summit so that we could meet up with Kel and another friend in Kel's car, and JP Wise a friend and co-worker who was riding his super sweet Ducati 1098. Once we all gathered up we headed out on 29 again, heading for Danville, Va. and VIR.
VIR, or the Virginia International Raceway, is located outside of Danville, just off hwy 158. We had directions, so it was easy to find. It wouldn't have been a problem if we hadn't had them though, all we would have had to do was follow all the motorcycles that were on 158!
As we rode up the driveway to the facility I couldn't help but be amazed, it was more like a country club than a race track. Freshly paved roads, cut and trimed grass along the side, natural wooded terrain on either side greated us and we hadn't even gotten to the ticket booth!
Once we did, there were a few cars and trucks in line ahead of us. I was about to pull up close to the truck in front of me when a couple of folks at the ticket booth walked out from the building, pointed at us and motioned us to get out of line and pull forward. I did, and the rest of the gang, except for Kel and his bud, rolled right up to the gate and after showing our passes, were motioned through ahead of everyone else!
Cool!
We rode for what seemed like a good ways down another beautifully landscaped area on a new road, at each intersection and turn were VIR workers who were waving and speaking to us as we rode past. I noticed a bridge ahead and what was obviously the facility on the other side of it as well as parking. Crossing the bridge I first noticed that we were going over the race track, then two bikes came flying by and passing directly under us! I keyed up the CB and asked Bryan if he had seen that and he told me he definately we did and that we needed to go park, fast!
Hot Damn! Racing!
As we crossed the bridge more workers were there and motioning for us to keep going. We kept going past where all the cars were being parked and kept getting closer to the race track and pits!
When we came to the vendors area there was a sign that said "Motorcycle Parking" but there was a barracade in the drive. A worker came out and told me to keep going, the lot was full, but they had a treat for us. Riding on, and being ushered by the workers, we rode right into the pit area!
As we entered the pits we were motioned over to an open area between paved roads. We were on a really nice hard packed sandy gravel surface that turned out to be unused pit stalls. They were parking the bikes in rows in this space and a worker motioned me up to where he was. As I got closer he spread his feet apart, but kept his heels together making a "V" and pointing at the ground.
"OK dude, if your brave enough..." I thought and put the Nomad's front wheel directly between his feet. "Hey! How ya doing?" he asked and then moved to put a kickstand pad benieth my kickstand before I even made a move for it.
How cool! Everyone else came in too quick for him to position like that, but he hurriedly went around to our group offering pads and welcoming us to VIR.
I was impressed, and I hadn't even gotten off the bike yet.
After taking afew minutes to change into some walking shoes, stow boots, jackets and helmets and get out camera and phones, we were ready to go.
Now, I'm not going to pretend to know anything at all about road racing or the players in AMA road racing. So I won't even try to give a race recap or report. You can visit the AMA website for that. Instead, I'm just going to share some of the photos we took and comment on them as we go.
Lets go racing!
The vendor area and motorcycle parking.
There were tons of bikes riden in with almost every brand and model represented.
The parking lot was a bike show in itself.
Overview of the pit area. We were parked in front of that yellow truck with the two EZ ups.
One of the spectator areas.
Jumbotrons showing the TV broadcast. This is between turns 3 and 4.
Looking over turn 4 towards turn 5 and the back 'straight'. Notice the condos in the background.
Looking back on the same spectator area.
This building housed the concession stands, restrooms and offices.
It was a 'typical' race in some respects. This is a privateer Super Sport racers pit area. 
More or less stock bike raced out of the back of a van. You gotta love it.
These guys were pitted directly across from where we were parked. 
Cool bikes and a nice pit set up.
They're from Wisconsin. Could you tell?
The Attack Kawasaki Super Stock pits. 
More of the Attack team.
Factory Kawasaki semi.
Kawaski works bikes in the garage area.
Team Yamaha's garage stall.
Honda works bikes in the garage area.
Ducati's team truck and pit area.
"Da'yaaammmnn"
RedBull/KTM Rookie Challenge pits.At one point as we cruised the pits I looke over at Bryan and apologized for getting him into off road racing instead of road racing. He looked at me kinda funny and I explained that I had no idea motorcycle racing could be so... clean.
There was the usual (we understand) gathering of pit tootsies, race queens and umbrella girls.
Trophy Girl.
A local motorcycle shop co-sponsored the event and used this Kawasaki Mule to transport VIP's around.
Interesting place to keep a cell phone.Yes, we really did see some motorcycle racing. Some impressive motorcycle racing. We had no idea what to expect really, and had a ball taking it all in.
Bryan and I both shot a ton of photos and I shot a lot of video too. In the end we both got some good shots I think, but we also shot a bunch of misses too! It was really hard trying to stay with them in spots trying to get a clean picture.
The photos below are some of the ones that I took and thought were worth posting.
As you can tell, we had a ball. I now have even more respect for road racing and road racers. The bikes bristeled with trickness, the speeds were eye wateringly fast, the lean angles in the turns insane, and the talent these riders posess amazing. I'd go to another in a heartbeat.
Bryan mentioned on the way out that he wouldn't mind doing a track day if he had full leathers and other protective equipment, but he didn't think he'd care to actually road race.
I'll have to agree, but can't imagine that they make a one piece racing suit in size triple fat, so I don't imagine I'll see that any time soon. ;)
In the mean time, we'll just keep riding and having a ball.
The End.
Bruce
25th Wedding Anniversary Trip - August 8th ~ 10th, 2008
It has become a tradition for Julie and I to celebrate our wedding Anniversary by going on a long week-end road trip. Last year Bryan and Jordan joined us and we all had a great time. It was their first long trip riding which made it that much more fun and special.
This year they couldn't join us, so Julie and I struck out on own own, headed for "Wild, Wonderful" West Virginia.
We left early Friday morning and headed up US 52 going towards Mount Airy, NC to I-77. In the interest of time we decided to make time and ride the 'big roads' up to Bluefield, WV., then take WV 16 out of Welch, WV and start seeing some new roads!
Our first gas stop was in Bastian, Va. Just a wide spot off I-77 before the West Virginia state line.
"Now lets see... who's called looking for me?"
"Hi Sweetie!!!"
We rode up 16 to just south of Beckley, WV and had a ball! The road is a hoot overall, but the further north we went the rougher it got. Not bad or dangerous, but we were noticing the bumps more. Close to I-64 we pulled off at a convenience store, fueled and took a Coke Zero and ice cream sandwich break. It was here that I got to not only re-live one of the coolest moments of my life, I got to expand on it!
I finished filling the tank with liquid gold then pulled up into a parking space in front of the store. There we sat and had our snack and looked over the map.
It was just after mid afternoon, and we still had plenty of day light left to ride. We had thought about going further north on 16, but were afraid we'd get out in the middle of Nowhere, WV after dark in need of a motel that could be still a good ways off. We were looking over the map when this stereo-typical West by-gawd Virginia good ol' boy stopped by and asked where we were headed.
Flashbacks of our trip to The Trace of a few years ago and sitting at the Sonic in Natchez, MS when the manager of the place asked us the very same question and my heart filled with glee...
"We don't know... We're just out riding."
Oh man, I love riding motorcycles.
He stayed there and talked with us for 15 minutes or more, telling us about some of the areas more interesting spots and pointing them out on the map. Using our new information we decided to ride a little ways east on I-64 looking for one of the roads and a waterfall he told us about.
Following his directions we turned onto 133 and headed south in search of a waterfall.
133 was a good motorcycle road! It wound up a mountain and had several steep grades and lots of twisties. We were turning to our left in the photo above when we came on this wide spot in the road. I whoa'd up the Nomad and got it stopped safely in time to get off the road and stop, and we found what you see below.
We found the waterfalls!
We parked the bike, took our gear off and grabbed our two favorite electronic devices. The camera and the cell phone.
The parking area was small, and off to the side were the signs above at the entrance to a trail that went down hill to a viewing area.
My beauty taking in the beauty.
"Hey Teddy!"
The falls as seen in normal view in the camera. Not sure of the distance, really. But a long ways off.
Zoomie, telephoto stuff. The camera continues to amaze me.
Look close.
Closer...
Invasion of privacy?
On the way back out, Julie spotted a birds nest under the shelter of one of the signs. She took the photos below.
Check it out!
Whoa! 
Where'd it go!
OMG!! There's two!
Ready to go.
Gone.We stayed on 133 for several miles, then wound our way back to the Beckley area in pretty much the same predicament we were in earlier?
Which way now?
You gotta love it...
The way we had it figured, we could ride up US 19 and check out the New River Gorge Bridge again. We were in the area, so why not? That would put us close to dark-thirty and there was a hotel about 20 miles from the bridge. Done deal. We headed for that monster of a bridge.
"Oh boy! Stairs!" 
"And more stairs..."
"Hey Darlin'!"
The view from the upper overlook. 
More zoomie stuff. 
Pretty unreal huh? Oh, and the bridge is cool too. 
The New River Gourge, looking south west from the bridge.
Due south. There's a river down there!
Looking out over the gorge. Notice the old bridge in the lower left of the photo.
Zooming in on the river, just south of the old bridge. 
We'll be riding across that bridge soon.
More of that telephoto stuff. Before the big bridge was built in the 70's, this was the only was to cross the river at this point. The trip from one side to the other using the old bridge takes about 45 mins.
Going the old was you cross directly by the major support struts of the bridge. This is one massive structure.
Just crossed the old bridge, we're half way there!
Looking up from the old bridge...
...and the river under the new one. Once across the gorge we rode the 20 miles or so to Summerville, WV and then stopped for the night.
Saturday morning we got started about our usual time, deciding to head due east and south for the day. We planned on another night on the road, but didn't want to be so far from home that we had to ride hard and still get in late on Sunday.
We got some 'tips' on West Virginia roads from the http://www.motorcycleroads.us/index.html web site before leaving on the trip and had used some of them already that day. There was mention of a "County Route 1" that we found interesting and planned the morning around going in that direction. Along the way we ran across "The Falls of Hills Creek" scenic area and decided to check it out.
Julie decided we just had to go for a hike. A nice mile and half walk in and back out. No problem. 
The upper falls. 
"Oh look. More Stairs."
Quiet little creek along the way.
The middle falls. 
"My, my. Even more stairs..." 
"sigh..." 
Like the sign says, "The Lower Falls". I felt the same way she does.
"No problem Fatboy. We'll just march right outta here." After changing back into my boots and catching our breath... we continued on across 39 and then took 55 north. Our goal was to stay on 55 to 150, where we would
take it north on a scenic route through the mountains.
take it north on a scenic route through the mountains.
We missed the turn off for 150 and didn't realize it until we had started down a grade and into a desending right hand turn. At this point we were committed and stayed on 55 as it wound down off the mountain. Once at the bottom we just kept on going, taking in the view, and rode to where 219 intersects 55. We stopped and looked over the map, then loaded up and headed back the way we'd just came from wanting to go back and take 150 as planned. It was a beautiful day for a ride.
Why not?
We caught up to a pick up truck and just eased along several car lengths back behind it. In no hurry, just listening to the radio and loving life as we climbed back up the mountain through the twisties we'd just come down.
As we entered the very last turn, this time an uphill left hander, I noticed a couple of pick up trucks sitting in a wide spot on the left shoulder of the turn. I set the bike into the turn and looked ahead.
I knew that I was going to have to turn again in the middle of the turn and make a line change in order to come out smoothly, looking ahead at the pivot point in the turn ahead of me I noticed dark spots in the road that ran from the inside (to our left) of the road. They ran at an angle to the turn and into our lane and I saw that our line through the turn would have the front tire coming very close to one of those spots.
They appeared to be pieces of ashphalt where a repair had been made. I began to alter my line slightly to go a little wide of it, but the tire still caught the edge of one of those spots. When it did, I lost all feeling in the bars and the bike quit turning and was sliding straight ahead to the outside edge of the road.
It was oil.
Some of you might know the term 'losing the front end', where traction is completely lost on the front tire and it 'pushes' away from the direction of the turn. You try to 'catch' the front end and make it dig in, and if that fails you try to shift the weight of the machine to the rear, hoping it will 'catch' before all adhesion is lost and the bike and rider(s) are dumped on their...
Thats exactly what happened to us.
What I'm about to tell you happened in about four or five heart beats.
Falling back on my off road background I instinctivley chopped the throttle hoping to transfer some weight forward, then I shifted my weight forward and stuck out my left foot, sliding it along the top, not planting it, allowing it to skim across the road. At the same time I pushed down hard on the right floorboard, hoping to make the back end bite.
It works great on a 200 lb dirt bike.
Not to good on a 600 lb touring bike.
What can I say, it came naturally...
What Bryan and I figured later was that the front tire slid on the oil it hit, but due to forward motion the tire still rotated, just slower than it should have been. When it rotated enough that fresh rubber was on the ground it bit.
When it did, our weight began to push us forward, only now the front tire had traction and was turning. In order to prevent a highside, where the weight transfer throws you over the handlebars on the outside or 'high' side of the turn.
Now I had to straighten the bike up a bit and 'catch' it again, only we were running out of road, the shoulder was approaching!
I pushed on the left side of the handlebars intitiating a counter steer which brought the bike back into a turn, but under my control. In order to get back in line with the radius of the turn I had to lay the bike way over to the left, the left floorboard thudding when it hit, then scraping along we continued through the turn. I applied full throttle allowing the weight to transfer to the rear and drive us out of the turn.
As I exited the turn I rolled off the throttle and then began to cuss like the proverbial sailor outloud and therefore into the intercom.
Julie said, "Whats wrong?"
I cussed some more.
She had been looking up and listening to the radio, she had no real sensation of what had happened until the floorboard hit, and as she told me later, "You've been doing that a lot lately so I didn't think to much about it."
Hmmmphh.
Back in full control of the bike I slowed down well before the intersection of 150, made the turn and continued to just ease along slowly replaying the incident in my mind.
After a bit I picked up the pace a bit, but I was still a little skiddish of the bike. We pulled over a couple of times to take in the view, which allowed me some more time to get my thoughts together and confidence back.
We had been lucky.
Hard earned views of the Greenbrier River Trail State Park as seen from Wv 155, The Highlands Scenic Highway.The views from the mountains were spectactular. 155 wound it's way north and east for about 20 miles where it intersected with 55 again. From there we went south in search of another one of those roads on our http://www.motorcycleroads.us/index.html list of suggested roads and found ourselves in Edray, WV at the southern end of a local county road, CR1.
What was touted as a road for 'serious and experianced riders only' turned out to be not much more than a long winding driveway that wound around and through rural West Virginia. It was a beautiful ride, but a real PITA too as each time we met another vehicle coming the other way, they would have to get at least half of thier vehicle off the pavement for us to pass, even with us on the shoulder! We crept along like that for 30 miles when we intersected with hwy 66 and bailed out on the other 35 or so of CR1.
Maybe next time...
As we poured over the map at the intersection I saw that we weren't too far from The Cass Railroad and the Greenbrier Observitory. These were both points of interest that an Internet forum buddy had told me about.
Hoping to find some lunch and a cold drink we headed that way. It wasn't far over to Cass, WV and the ride through town was worth riding over for. It's just a small little country town in rural West Virginia, but it just had an appeal about it. The Cass Railroad was on the far side of town and it wasn't hard to find.
We pulled into the parking lot and it was loaded with motorcycles. There must have been 20 or more. A couple on a Harley trike were standing not far from where we parked and we struck up a conversation with them while we took our gear off and got the e-gadgets out. They highly recomended the observitory and told us a little about it. We yacked for a bit and then said our good byes, they were headed north for the night.
We wandered around the gift shop then had some lunch at the resteraunt.
While we were waiting on our lunch the train came in, and then left out as we were leaving. That thing is loud and smokey. It made all sorts of noise as it came and wentand the smoke trail could be seen for quite a distance.
The Cass Railroad.We could have spent more time in Cass, but we were both curious about the telescope in Greenbrier so we saddled up and skipped the train ride and headed over to see this overgrown sattlite dish everyone was making such a fuss over.
Not long after leaving Cass, Julie spotted it off to our left. It was at least a mile off in the distance and it was still huge.
It's called The Green Bank Telescope (GBT), or "The Great Big Thing" as the tour guide called it, and it is massive. 100 meters across and the whole structure weighs over 16,000,000 pounds. They said you could fit an average size collge football stadium inside the dish!
The "GBT". Green Bank, West Virginia.The whole facility was to say the least, impressive. We decided to stay a while and took the guided tour. As part of the tour an indtroduction to the facilty was given as well as some demonstrations of how the systems worked were given. I could go on and on about it but sufice it to say that Julie and I both enjoyed our visit and will probably stop again if given the chance.
When we were ready to go it was late afternoon, we had decided to head south and ride some more. We wanted to be a bit further south than we were to start the next day. Neither of us wanted to faced with a long ride home on Sunday.
The GBT is located right on WV 92 so we rode south towards White Sulpher Springs, West Virginia 92 intersects with I-64. It was a beautiful ride.
The road winds through the country side of West Virginia passing small farms and through towns in the foothills of a rolling mountain side. There was little traffic and we had plenty of fuel so we just ran a nice easy pace soaking it all in but still making good time not having to stop along the way.
At the intersection of I-64 we pulled off at a gas station to stretch, get some water and figure out what we wanted to do. A couple of different locals came up and spoke to us, commenting on the Nomad and asking where we were going.
They told us that the WV State Fair was in town and they didn't think there'd be any rooms available, but suggested a few we might try. But there was several (a few?) hours of day light left and we were both still in the mood to ride some more, so we saddled up and rode on.
Julie spotted Hwy 311 on the map which runs from just outside of town and goes south into Roanoke, Virginia.
We figured we could get there before dark if we hurried so that was our game plan. After a brief ride across I-64 east (and west, and then back east) we (finally) found 311.
Man oh man, let me tell you what. We made a find!
311 is one sweet ride. It's two lane all the way, but in very good condition. From almost the start we wound and twisted our way up a mountain, a bit tight at first, then it became more flowing. The country side and sights are spectacular and the greatness of the road makes it all the more enjoyable.
About half way to Roanoke we stopped in New Castle, West Virginia to top off the tank for the ride in. In slightly more time than NASCAR pit stop we did our gas and go then mounted up and started down the mountain into Roanoke.
We made another find.
The ride down the mountain was better than the ride up!
Oh boy!
The road really flowed well, I found a sweet spot in forth gear that let me use some engine breaking as needed, and then just apply enough throttle to maintain momentum. Julie asked me at one point if I was having a good time, so I guess we were carrying a bit too much momentum but it sure was fun.
We beat nightfall to Roanoke by a bit, we checked in checked in to our hotel, I took a few photos and we walked down to yet another Mexican resteraunt for supper as it became dark-thirty. This time we hit a home run though as it not only had tall, cold, mexican draught beer, the food was more than good too.
Hot damn!
These places have the most comfy beds I've ever slept in. 
The view from out our door. Thats Roanoke's airport off in the distance.
Our second Mexican supper in a row. This time it was actually pretty good! We left Roanoke Sunday morning about our usual time. After a short ride out on 220 we got on the Blue Ridge Parkway and took it south to Tuggles Gap, Virginia and then stopped at the Tuggles Gap Resteraunt and Motel for some coffee and pie. Julie called Bryan and he was feeling poorly so Momma was ready to bust a ride straight home from there.
Hwy 8 south as it leaves Tuggles Gap is one of those roads that I love to ride. It is another one of those great 'getting off the mountain' twisty roads that we are fortunate to have so relatively close to home.
In Winston Salem we picked up Hwy 52 and took it on into Lexington and then came on to the house.
Another trip under a thousand miles. We're going to have to get busy if Momma is going to beat her boy in their milage contest! Bruce
July 27th, 2008 - Back To The Valley Of The Snake
Bryan's buddy and roommate Josh had let the cat out of the bag last week when he asked me if Julie and I were going with he and Bryan 'over to The Snake' the following week-end.
I told him that I hadn't heard anything about it and didn't know if we were invited or not.
So you know a short time later Julie gets a phone call from the boy where he explained that he was wanting to go, but no plans had been made and of course we should go too.
That kid is such a smooove talker...
To be honest, I had been wanting to make a trip over that way so that we could try out some of the other roads in the area. It's like the sign says "Three mountains, one valley, 489 curves" and we'd only seen a small part of it. As the plans came together we invited Teddy and Tim along, thinking they'd enjoy it too.
Teddy, Tim, Julie and I met Josh and Bryan at what is now our meeting spot. The Waffle House at the intersection of I 77 and US 70 in Statesville. It's a good midway point from Charlotte and Lexington for going west towards the mountains.
Gotta love those Waffle House breakfast's and waitresses!
Julie has decided that this is her next lawn mower.
Another way to tell if a rider is getting the most out of the bike is to look at the width of the "Chicken Strips". That's the unused area of the tire next to the sidewall. Wide strips indicate little lean angle, narrow ones show how far over the rider has had the bike. This is our front tire.
This is our rear tire.
THP was well represented this week end.
389.9, a good day ride!
I told him that I hadn't heard anything about it and didn't know if we were invited or not.
So you know a short time later Julie gets a phone call from the boy where he explained that he was wanting to go, but no plans had been made and of course we should go too.
That kid is such a smooove talker...
To be honest, I had been wanting to make a trip over that way so that we could try out some of the other roads in the area. It's like the sign says "Three mountains, one valley, 489 curves" and we'd only seen a small part of it. As the plans came together we invited Teddy and Tim along, thinking they'd enjoy it too.
Teddy, Tim, Julie and I met Josh and Bryan at what is now our meeting spot. The Waffle House at the intersection of I 77 and US 70 in Statesville. It's a good midway point from Charlotte and Lexington for going west towards the mountains.
Gotta love those Waffle House breakfast's and waitresses!After getting our bellies full and deciding which way to go in order to get to the mountains we saddled up and headed for the hills.
Yucking it up in the parking lot before we headed out.
Josh and Bryan getting ready to ride.
We had decided to take US 64/90 over to Lenoir and then take US 321 north into Blowing Rock. It had been a while since any of us had been that way and now seemed like a good time to see how the road construction was going on 321.
It was open. We'll leave it at that.
We stayed on 321 through Blowing Rock on into Boone and there picked up US 421 west and headed for the Tennessee border. It wasn't long before we were in Mountain City, Tennessee and the infamous "Snake", a roughly 10 mile stretch of US 421 that has over 130 turns in it.
Teddy and Tim were in front, Julie and I behind them, Bryan was next and then Josh (thanks to the obnoxious exhaust on his GSXR 600) was bringing up the rear. The plan was to let Bryan and Josh take the lead as we entered the curvy section, but we weren't able to let them get by as quickly as we'd wanted too, so they were forced to follow the old folks on the cruisers until we could get to a safe spot for them to pass. Until then, we decided to try and not hold the boys on their sport bikes up to much and a spirited ride ensued.
It wasn't long before a fairly long and flat section of road came up so I got on the radio and let Bryan know to come on around and bring Josh with him. Tim saw what was happening and swung wide so that they could come on around them as well.
The chase was on!
Now before we go to far here, we were NOT racing or even riding over our heads or recklessly. THP is patrolling the area very heavily, especially on the week-ends so while we technically were breaking the 35 mph speed limit in spots, we were mainly trying to maintain a constant speed through the turns.
The sport bikes have the edge in these situations so as valiantly as Tim tried the boys were soon out of sight, and Tim was soon out of my sight as well. But that's deceiving as none of us were ever more than three or four turns apart, we just couldn't see each other until we neared Shady Valley and the road began to straighten out a little.
We stopped at "The Country Store", because we always do, and to feed the boys. It was noon and had been three hours after all...
I took a picture of Julie taking a picture of Teddy & Tim.
Julie has decided that this is her next lawn mower.We left the store and continued west on US 421 towards Bristol, it was still early and Bristol was only 20 miles and a bunch more of those 489 curves ahead.
The road initially was fairly straight and level, then we got on the mountain again. At that point it became just as twisty as the section east of Shady Valley and was an absolute hoot to ride!
We were riding along at a good pace when we Julie made the comment that she smelled brakes and wondered if it was coming from the car ahead of us. Two turns later we saw the back end of a semi trailer and figured out where the smell was coming from.
The driver was doing all he could do to man handle his rig around those sharp turns, but even with his steering axle on one side of the road his trailer axles would be on or near the other shoulder effectively blocking the road.
Bryan and Josh were now directly in front of us and Bryan was trying to get the driver to talk to him on the CB, he was offering to be an escort to the bottom of the hill, but the driver wouldn't answer. I told Bryan that the poor fellow had his hands full and couldn't get to the microphone, then offered to work with Bryan and escort him down the mountain if he would simply let us by.
Just then, as the truck was trying to negotiate a SHARP left hand turn two bikes coming the other direction appeared and had to hit the shoulder of the road as to not hit the truck! The shoulder wasn't in very good shape with ruts and rocks littering the narrow piece of non paved road shoulder. Both riders did an excellent job of avoiding the truck and staying up right and thankfully got back on the asphalt on the other side of the truck totally unscathed.
Bryan and I both began calling out to the driver again to no avail. But within a few turns he found a shoulder wide enough to get his truck off the road, and by the time we got to where the tractor was the driver was out of the cab and looking like he was going to sit there for a few minutes. We slowed but passed on by figuring that another bike would be by soon enough and would escort him down the hill.
As we got to the bottom of the mountain the road smoothed and straightened out. A sign told us we were 8 miles out of Bristol when we decided to stop and let Tim fuel, and check the map.
We were right at Tennessee Route 44 and saw where we could follow it south to Tennessee Route 19E, which would lead us to US 321 which we could then take back to Boone, North Carolina. After a short break we were heading down 44.
It was nice winding country road that took us through the middle of some wonderful Tennessee farm and rural land. At one point we found ourselves in a small little town where no one seemed to be out. The road ran us close to a river that I never saw the name of, and where there was absolutely no boat traffic on or no one out swimming. Strange.
We intersected 19 E and got on it, heading for 321. Not long after we had been on 19 E we came to an intersection for Hwy 91 and Shady Valley! Hot Dog! Lets go that way and find some more of those 489 curves!
Where we got on 91 on the outskirts of Elizabethton, Tennessee and had to ride through the edge of town before finding ourselves out in the country and climbing the mountain again. Once again Tim and I let the boys get around us and we settled in behind them. At this point Teddy and Tim were behind Julie and I, and as I usually do I was trying to keep my eye on them in the mirror as often as I safely could.
All of a sudden they weren't there! I slowed down and told Bryan over the radio to hold up. We all pulled over and waited a few minutes but still no Teddy and Tim. In my mind I knew Tim should be right there unless he had stopped so we turned around in search of them.
Fortunately we didn't go far when we saw their headlights and them met them coming towards us. We turned around again and took off after them, Tim slowed and waited on us so that we could all gather up then once together we all took off.
We would find out later that Teddy somehow or another had a bee fly into her pants and sting her! She made Tim stop immediately, then jumped off the bike and dropped her britches trying to get the bee out! I miss all the fun!!
As I figured, 91 intersected 421 at The Country Store in Shady Valley. We decided to go straight across and get on 133, which we had ridden many times before, and head for 58 in Damascus, Virginia.
In Damascus we stopped for fuel and to take a break for a bit, then headed out on 58 east. Now 58 is a fun road. Twisty and hilly with a great road surface it is a bikers dream. Unfortunately it's also usually got some traffic on it. Usually someone either pulling a trailer, or someone that doesn't know that the pedal on the right makes the vehicle go, or someone that doesn't understand mountain road etiquette where you pull over and let faster traffic by.
We found all of the above.
At times it was clear road and smooth sailing. Other times it was all we could do to remain upright as we were going so slow following one of the types described earlier. Still, it was a good time, as it usually is. As usual we stayed on 58 until we got to 93, which took us to Sparta, North Carolina, then took 21 south into Cherry Lane where we stopped and got something to drink and sat around shooting the breeze.
We stayed on 21 until we got to Hwy 901, then we split off from the boys, they would be going back to Charlotte and we had to go to the house. Julie and I pulled the Nomad into the shop right around 8:00 pm, the trip meter reading 389 miles.
It was a great ride and a good time was had by all.
I've been playing with the suspension and tire pressure on the Nomad some lately and I'm getting real close to having it dialed in. On many, many occasions Julie and I heard and felt the floorboards scape against the pavement as we negotiated the turns in the mountains. Bryan commented one time that while he was behind us in a turn he saw sparks about a foot long flying out behind the bike!
Scrreeaaccchh! And the sparks fly!
Another way to tell if a rider is getting the most out of the bike is to look at the width of the "Chicken Strips". That's the unused area of the tire next to the sidewall. Wide strips indicate little lean angle, narrow ones show how far over the rider has had the bike. This is our front tire.
This is our rear tire.
THP was well represented this week end.
389.9, a good day ride!Bruce
Fourth of July Week End Ride - 2008
Several years ago before we bought our bike, I don't remember the exact year, Julie and I borrowed a Nomad that had been traded in at the shop I was working for at the time. It was (supposed to be) a simple day trip to the mountains that ended up starting a tradition and marked the beginning of 'The Curse'.
The tradition obviously became our annual 4th of July rides. 'The Curse' is our uncanny ability to become rain magnets, drawing any rain cloud within 100 miles to us then having it dump it's contents all over us, AND whoever might be with us.
We planned this years trip to be a three day, two night adventure for not only Julie and I, but Jordan and Bryan too. We were originally planning on heading up Hwy 16 into West Virginia.
The problem was that by the time we were able to actually sit down and make hotel reservations we found that there were none to be had anywhere around where we thought we'd be at night.
OK, plan B then...
We were able to secure a couple of rooms in one of our favorite spots, Helen, Georgia, then we found two more for the next night in Athens, Tennessee. The game plan being we'd ride to Helen the first day, get up early and ride the north Georgia mountains, then head to Tennessee for the night. From there we would get up early again and ride some of our favorite roads in the western North Carolina mountains while working our way back home.
Good in overall theory.
Julie wasn't able to leave work until after lunch on Thursday so with everything else involved in getting ready for a trip like this, it was almost three when we pulled out of the house. With almost 300 miles to ride!
It really wasn't that bad though, it wasn't getting dark until after 9:00 pm so we rode in daylight almost the entire way, and were still able to ride the way we enjoy, i.e. making some time, but stopping along the way to enjoy ourselves and each other.
At one time or another, Bryan and I have both raced dirt bikes with the number 178 on them. So as you can imagine this road was a must for us. We've all been on it, just not this trip. We did however get this picture this time around.
We arrived in Helen just after dark and got checked in at our favorite hotel. After unloading the bikes and locking them up we walked downtown in search of something to eat. Unfortunately, most of the restaurants were closed or closing for the night! We ended up finding a Mexican place that was open late and had a great meal. Then took a stroll down main street before heading back to the hotel for the night.
The plan for getting up early was blown the next morning as it was after 9:00 am before we had everyone up and moving. Since the kids had only seen the town at night (and closed) we decided to take another stroll down main street and look around before loading up the bikes and heading out for the day.
Julie finds some puppies to love on.
The city of Helen actually calls itself "Alpine Helen" and over the years has remodeled and rebuilt the buildings, especially those on main street, with a Bavarian theme. 
Flower gardens and a fountain in front of some the many little shops downtown.
Bryan and Jordan.
Some of the shops off main street.
I honestly don't know what business this windmill belongs to, but it really did work!
I was just looking around and happened to see this. Couldn't tell you exactly where they were coming from, other than that roof, or why they were even there. But it was cool!
Pretty flowers along main street.
Jordan's and Julie's beauty outshine the flowers.It was close to, or maybe even after noon before we were fueled up, packed up, loaded up and heading out of town. Starting out that late we had to re-think my plans for where we would ride too. We decided on a loop that would take us out by Brasstown Bald (the highest peak in Georgia) and then out of Georgia and into Tennessee via some scenic routes, a few of which Julie and I had been on back in 2006 on our vacation trip to the Trace.
We hadn't been riding for an hour when the sky's began to look ominous and dark, especially on the mountain tops. We kept going, hoping we would miss it when 'The Curse' reared it's ugly head and the bottom fell out! The road offered no where to stop at all so we just kept going getting soaked and worrying about the luggage on the bikes. One of those mini storage facility places came into view so we pulled into the parking lot so that we could at least cover the bags.
We hadn't been riding for an hour when the sky's began to look ominous and dark, especially on the mountain tops. We kept going, hoping we would miss it when 'The Curse' reared it's ugly head and the bottom fell out! The road offered no where to stop at all so we just kept going getting soaked and worrying about the luggage on the bikes. One of those mini storage facility places came into view so we pulled into the parking lot so that we could at least cover the bags.
No sooner than we stopped a car pulled up beside us and the lady inside rolled her window down and told us that she had a little store up ahead and we were welcome to come inside out of the rain there. We thanked her and then followed her just down the road and pulled in here;
The Bearwassee Furniture Store. Our temporary haven from a summer shower. It was truly a cool place. A little pricey, but handmade quality furniture is. We spent almost an hour there waiting on the rain to stop, looking around and talking to the nice lady that owned the store. She showed us several photos that had been taken in her back yard with a deer camera. There were pictures of a deer, a raccoon, and a BEAR. Julie was thrilled! We asked her over how many nights the pictures were taken and she replied, "Oh just one." *gasp!* Busy back yard!!!!
After the rain let up we got back on the road and headed to the Brasstown Bald. As I said earlier, the Bald is the highest point in the state of Georgia. Originally a weather station and fire look out tower the facility now also houses a visitors center and is one of those places that is a must see. It is said that from the observation deck you can see four states, and I believe it. Regardless it is spectacular!
Julie being silly. This was taken in the parking lot as we went in. Notice the visitor center and observation deck behind her on the mountain top.
Taken from the same point using the zoom on our camera.
Now a view of the bikes in the parking lot from the observation deck, again using the zoom.
Different views from the observation deck.
"Oooo! Ooo! Take my picture!! I want to be a train driver!!!" A display from inside the visitors center.I guess it's only right that I mention the little 'incident' we had...
See, there's a place here in North Carolina where Bryan and I ride our dirt bikes called 'Brown Mountain". One of favorite things to do there is to find ourselves at the top of the mountain on trail number one then ride dead engine, coasting all the way down to the parking lot. It's loads of fun and teaches you a lot about using momentum and overall bike control.
Well, the road leading to the visitors center, Georgia Hwy 181 spur, is a very steep and curvy and nearly three miles long. As we started down I got the bright idea to slip the bike into nuetral and coast down, so I got on the radio and said "Bryan! Let's do like we do at Brown Mountain!", and off we went.
To be honest it was a hoot, and eye opening. As good a bike as the Nomad is, it is still a BIG and HEAVY motorcycle. It didn't take long for our speed to climb dramatically, and it took a good deal of braking to slow it down as well. As you would figure, right?
I found out later that at the very moment that Bryan told Jordan over their intercom that we had read where doing this was bad for the bikes, but we'd done it for years on the dirt bikes and never had any problems, I came over the CB and told Bryan and Jordan that I had lost my rear brakes!
Yep sports fans, Julie and I were now like a semi truck in (fittingly) 'Georgia Overdrive' that had lost it's brakes... potentially in a heap of trouble. Luck (and not good sense) was with us though as I could see the bottom of the hill just ahead.
I slipped the transmission into gear and slowly fed the clutch out while using the front brake. In all honesty it was no big deal and we stopped cleanly and effortlessly in a wide spot at the intesection of spur 181 and 181. But also in all honesty it could have been disastrous and Bryan and I both learned a thankfully painless lesson from it.
Only on the dirt bikes. ;)
The rear brakes got so hot that the brake fluid boiled in the lines, caliper and reservoir, causing me to have no 'feel' at all in the pedal, and applying no pressure at all to the pads. Now, we had this happen before, on the dirt bikes (but not on the hill at Brown Mountain), and knew that the only way this problem would be resolved would be to put new brake fluid in the system. So I sent Bryan and Jordan into the next town to get some fluid, while Julie and I waited on the rear caliper to cool.
When the kids got back Bryan and I flushed, filled and bled the rear brakes sitting there on the side of the road. My little 'fubar' not only was stupid it had cost us about an hour and a half of daylight. But we are fortunate that's all it cost us.
As I said, never again.
We left Brasstown Bald and started working our way towards Athens, Tennessee and our hotel. It was getting late in the afternoon and we really didn't know exactly how far we had to go, or how long it would take to get there.
Part of our route was US 64 in Tennessee, it wound along side the Toccoa River and through the mountains and was beautiful. Out of no where we ran upon one of the sites of the 1996 Summer Olympic Games! We all commented on the radio how we would have liked to stopped but we probably didn't have time and kept going.
Not two miles down the road we came up on traffic stopped in the middle of the road. We were told that there had been an accident and that the road was blocked and probably would be for some time. Another rider who was turning around told us how to get around the accident, but I was familiar with the route and knew it would take us several hours to do. So we decided to go back to the site of the Olympic Games and look around while waiting to see if the road opened up anytime soon.
The 'track' for kyack river rapids competition. I later found out the facility is still used for week end enthusiasts, but in the photo the water level is down for some reason.
The dam that controls the flow at the southern end of the rapids.
Another view if the dam.
Bryan and Jordan pose on the finish line bridge. Directly behind them in that 'V' was a platform that we think was used for a television camera.
"peak-a-boo..."
I took a picture of the gang... 
...of me taking a picture of him!It wasn't long before we noticed traffic was moving out from the other direction, and that it was long lines of traffic. Obviously the road was open again. It wasn't too long before dark so we hurriedly loaded up and got on our way.
We followed US 64 for another 30 minutes or so then turned north on US 411 looking for Hwy 39 that would take us into Athens. As it was now approaching darkeness and we still weren't really sure how far we had to go, it seemed to be taking forever. We came up on an intersection where 39 merged into 411 so we figured it couldn't be that much further.
We were approaching a town and decided that once we got there if we hadn't run up on our road we would stop and take a peak at the map. As we rolled into town things didn't look quite right...
There were people lined up on both sides of the road. They were sitting in and on cars and trucks, lawn chairs and benches. Then we came up on a city park in what we thought was the center of town and there was some festivities going on with tons of people and even a live band. Then it dawned on us. It was July 4th, everyone must be lined up to see a fireworks show! Cool!
We stopped at a store to check the map and saw where Hwy 39 was just on the edge of town. Bryan asked a local if the road was, or was going to be closed and was told no. We eased on through town and found our road at a traffic light, made the tuen and saw a sign that read "Athens 10 miles". So I asked Julie if she wanted to stop and see the fireworks, then got on the radio and asked the kids as well. It was unamious!
We turned around and went back into town, stopping at a Dollar General store parking lot. The store was still open so Julie went inside and got us some drinks and a snack then we settled in to see the show. As luck would have it we had a front row seat as the spot where they were lighting off the fireworks couldn't have been more than a quarter of a mile away!
It was nearly 11:00 pm when we left the fireworks show, and almost midnight when we got checked in to the motel. It didn't take long for everyone to get settled in and off to sleep. It had been a loooong day.
We did manage to get up early the next morning, and were on the road by 8:00 am. It was going to be another very long day with lots of miles to cover and we knew it.
We rode out 39 again and then took 411 south to Tennessee route 30. That led us to Tennesee 315 which took us through a beautiful piece of the Cherokee National Forest and into Tellico Plains, Tennessee.
From there we got on the Cherohala Skyway, which rates waaay up there on out list of favorite roads. As usual, we had a good time and a good ride crossing the Cherohala.
Just short of the peak we stopped to put in our jacket liners (it's cold at 5500 feet) and to make a plan.
The clouds were hanging low on the Cherhala Skyway that morning.
"Hey Jordan! Wha'cha doin'?"
"You'll see..." 
"Ta-da!!!"We had decided to make one pass on the infamous "Tail of the Dragon", US 129 near Deals Gap, North Carolina. We wanted to do it just because it is (usually) a fun road to ride, but we also wanted to take a few minutes to stop and talk with Darryl Cannon, aka "Killboy" of the Killboy.com website. ( http://killboy.blogspot.com/ )
I won't lie and will tell you that we also hoped to have him take some photos that would end up on his 'front page', which is the lead in page to his store. Getting your picture on the front page of the Killboy sight something that most riders who ride the mountains would love to do, as long as its not one of those "uh-oh" photos...
Bryan's plan was simple. Darryl had started this thing using a thing from a middle school game where you drop your hand below your waste and make an "OK" sign of sorts. In the game, if you sneak up on someone and do it, you get to punch them in the arm (I think), on Darryls web sight you stand a good chance of making the front page. Bryan wanted all of us to give him that sign as we went by.
I told Bryan that the game was after my time, and that I'd never remember to do it, but also added that when we stopped to talk to him and he saw Jordan's flowers he would definitely take her picture, and wouldn't it be a hoot if SHE made the front page and we didn't.
Bryan and Jordan get ready to ride "The Dragon".
Well... I was right. Darryl took Jodan's picture and it made the front page. But so was Bryan. He and Jordan both gave him the sign and that picture too made the front page of the Killboy site.
The caption for this picture was "Flower child".
This one read "Oh the first double finger trap"The rest of the ride on "The Dragon" was boring at best. Due to the notoriety of that road traffic has become a real problem, especially on the week end. We followed a couple of riders that were obviously new and shakey on their bikes as they rode no faster than 20 mph and even then couldn't stay in their lane, the remainder of our pass. However, I am not being condesending. It's a public road and they have every right to be there. It was just a little scary watching them and I'd be less than honest if I didn't say I got a little annoyed having to clutch the bike in second gear just to stay behind them. It's all good though.
From there we rode the Foothills Parkway to US 321 into Townsend, Tennesse where we picked up Scenic Rt 73 that winds through the Smokey Mountain National Park. That road is also always full of slow moving traffic, but you really don't care as it has to be one of the most beautiful drives in the country.
From there we rode the Foothills Parkway to US 321 into Townsend, Tennesse where we picked up Scenic Rt 73 that winds through the Smokey Mountain National Park. That road is also always full of slow moving traffic, but you really don't care as it has to be one of the most beautiful drives in the country.
We wound our way through the Smokey's and stopped in Cherokee, North Carolina at a Dairy Queen to take a break. By the time we left (another long story involving slow service and someone smitten by our Nomad) it was close to 6:00 pm and we still had a good four and half hour ride in front of us.
As we climbed our way over the foothills surrounding Cherokee we noticed some rain clouds. Julie and I were just saying on the intercom that we should probably stop and put our rain gear on when... you guessed it. The bottom fell out.
By the time we found a place to stop, put our rain gear on and cover our bags we were wet. Not really soaked, but wet. With no other choice to make, we got back on the road and continued on.
It wasn't long before Bryan told on the radio that he had a problem. Their intercom was squeeling wildly when they turned the unit on, and he couldn't use his connection to talk on the radio. They had already plugged his headset into Jordan's receptacle so that he could talk to me when he told us all this. They decided that they would be OK like this so we kept going.
It rained on us most of the way home. In order to make time we had decided to take I 40 most of the way home so we found ourselves on the interstate, at night, in the rain. Not a lot of fun to be sure. Because we had to slow down due to the heaviness of the rain at times and make a couple of stops for fuel and to just get off the bikes, it was midnight when we made it home.
Once again "The Curse" followed us on our trip, but it was also another fourth of July trip to remember. In all we logged just short of 900 miles on the trip. Not a staggering number considering the time we were out on the trip, but still a good ride.
I can't wait for next year!!!
Bruce
Not really, but I'm game!
Fathers Day Ride - June 16th, 2008
It has long been a tradition at our house for Bryan and I to go riding on Fathers Day, first with the dirt bikes and more recently on street bikes. With the addition of Bryan's FZ6 now it can be a full family affair, now all of us can go!
Sadly, Jordan couldn't join us on this ride as she was spending the day with her father and the rest of her family at home. We missed you Jordan and thought about you a lot, but were happy you were spending time with your Dad.
This year, Julie and I rode the Nomad across Hwy 70 from Salisbury to Statesville where we met Bryan at a Waffle House. We had breakfast and talked for a while then went to a gas station to top of the fuel tanks.
Julie will make me tell this...
After fueling the Nomad, I was fumbling around with the card and my wallet, listening to Bryan tell us... something, and trying to read the digital read out on the fuel pump so that I could get a receipt.
*sigh*
Even after Julie telling me not to do what I ultimately did... I pressed the button to add $7 for a car wash.
There. I said it. Happy Julie?
I went inside to ask the attendant if I could cancel it and wouldn't you know the dude was lucky to know what day of the week it was. No soap.
My darling bride then called me an SFB, and asked if it was safe to ride with me because I sure wasn't making good decisions...
*sigh*
I decided that I wanted to go for a long ride and go somewhere new or at least where we hadn't been in a while. We got on I 40 west at Statesville and hauled the mail over to Morganton where we picked up Hwy 181 north to run it up to the BRP.
181 is a fairly familiar road to us as we used to travel it going to an ORV park and a GNCC race. Julie and I have been on it all the way to the parkway a few times but this was Bryan's first time. Going north, once you get past where there are several camp grounds grouped together the road becomes a windy, twisty and fun road for several miles before it intersects the Blue Ridge Parkway.
At one point I eased over and let Bryan go around us because I knew he could easily make better time than we could. Running at a comfortable, safe, yet fun pace Bryan on his FZ ran off and hid from Julie and I on the Nomad. As you would expect. Gotta admit, it was fun watching him ride off. He appears to be comfortable on and with the bike, and handles it well.
Makes his ol' Daddy proud.
When we got to the BRP we headed south but stopped at an overpass that was right there to heed the call of nature and study the maps.
Julie and I hadn't been this far south on the parkway in a long time we decided to ride it south and then Bryan would show us some roads that he and Josh had ridden a few weeks ago.
We hadn't gone very far when we ran up on the exit for the Linville Falls. I asked Julie if she remembered it, then asked Bryan on the radio if he had. We decided to turn around and go back for a look see, and as Bryan said in his blog ( http://bmccraryfz6.blogspot.com/ ), I'm sure glad we did.
Bryan with two of the three things he's never far away from.
At the top of Linville Falls.
"What are you boys doing now?"
The upper falls and pool.
First, a close up of the left side...
...now the right.
This was growing on the side of the trail.
The kid and the old man ham it up.
Momma and her boy.
It was beginning to get later in the day so we headed out towards Charlotte, stopping in Shelby for some Fathers Day grub. We stopped at a Hamm's in Shelby, got our bellies full, laughed and talked for a while, then got back on the road, headed for Bryan's apartment in Charlotte.
Sadly, Jordan couldn't join us on this ride as she was spending the day with her father and the rest of her family at home. We missed you Jordan and thought about you a lot, but were happy you were spending time with your Dad.
This year, Julie and I rode the Nomad across Hwy 70 from Salisbury to Statesville where we met Bryan at a Waffle House. We had breakfast and talked for a while then went to a gas station to top of the fuel tanks.
Julie will make me tell this...
After fueling the Nomad, I was fumbling around with the card and my wallet, listening to Bryan tell us... something, and trying to read the digital read out on the fuel pump so that I could get a receipt.
*sigh*
Even after Julie telling me not to do what I ultimately did... I pressed the button to add $7 for a car wash.
There. I said it. Happy Julie?
I went inside to ask the attendant if I could cancel it and wouldn't you know the dude was lucky to know what day of the week it was. No soap.
My darling bride then called me an SFB, and asked if it was safe to ride with me because I sure wasn't making good decisions...
*sigh*
I decided that I wanted to go for a long ride and go somewhere new or at least where we hadn't been in a while. We got on I 40 west at Statesville and hauled the mail over to Morganton where we picked up Hwy 181 north to run it up to the BRP.
181 is a fairly familiar road to us as we used to travel it going to an ORV park and a GNCC race. Julie and I have been on it all the way to the parkway a few times but this was Bryan's first time. Going north, once you get past where there are several camp grounds grouped together the road becomes a windy, twisty and fun road for several miles before it intersects the Blue Ridge Parkway.
At one point I eased over and let Bryan go around us because I knew he could easily make better time than we could. Running at a comfortable, safe, yet fun pace Bryan on his FZ ran off and hid from Julie and I on the Nomad. As you would expect. Gotta admit, it was fun watching him ride off. He appears to be comfortable on and with the bike, and handles it well.
Makes his ol' Daddy proud.
When we got to the BRP we headed south but stopped at an overpass that was right there to heed the call of nature and study the maps.
Julie and I hadn't been this far south on the parkway in a long time we decided to ride it south and then Bryan would show us some roads that he and Josh had ridden a few weeks ago.
We hadn't gone very far when we ran up on the exit for the Linville Falls. I asked Julie if she remembered it, then asked Bryan on the radio if he had. We decided to turn around and go back for a look see, and as Bryan said in his blog ( http://bmccraryfz6.blogspot.com/ ), I'm sure glad we did.
Bryan with two of the three things he's never far away from.
At the top of Linville Falls.
"What are you boys doing now?"Looking towards the first long drop of the falls.
The upper falls and pool.
First, a close up of the left side...
...now the right.
This was growing on the side of the trail.We left the falls and rode further south on the BRP. It was getting close to lunch time so we got off the parkway and headed into Little Switzerland where we found a neat little road side cafe. There were several sportbikes parked out front so we knew it was biker friendly at least.
Actually the place turned out to be a find. The food was outstanding and it was a neat place with a lot of atmosphere. I'm sure we'll stop again.
After we were done eating and getting ready to go a couple that were out riding too walked over and introduced themselves. We shared info on the local roads and talked for a bit, then waved good bye as we rode off.
You meet the nicest people on a motorcycle...
Back on the BRP, we rode south down to Hwy 80 which is where the northern side of the big detour off the parkway is. The road is closed for repairs beyond there and we were wanting to go a different route anyway.
80 is a typical mountain road, twisty and tight near the top and then more gentle and rolling as you get off the mountain. Bryan and Josh had ridden it earlier but it was the first time Julie and I had been on it. Bryan was wanting to show us another road they had been on, so we headed out in search of Hwy 9.
As usual we got... um, misplaced, and ended up on I 40 again, even having to cross over Black Mountain before finding the exit for our road.
Once on 9 we followed Bryan for several miles, winding through the foothills of the western North Carolina mountains. It wasn't long before we came to US 64, and followed it east, stopping for a break and to take some pictures just east of Lake Lure.
The kid and the old man ham it up.
Momma and her boy.
Just east of Lake Lure we found a small pull off and parking area that was close to a small river. We stopped there and walked down a trail to the rivers edge and took the photos above.
At this point the highway is following the river as it wound between the two mountains you see above. Bryan noticed the waterfall pictured and called me over to see it. While down by the river he took the one of the fish. How cool is that?
It was beginning to get later in the day so we headed out towards Charlotte, stopping in Shelby for some Fathers Day grub. We stopped at a Hamm's in Shelby, got our bellies full, laughed and talked for a while, then got back on the road, headed for Bryan's apartment in Charlotte.
Once at Bryan's place we put the photos he had taken on my back up SD card so that I could use them here and have them on my hard drive. That done, Julie and I headed up I 85 for the house.
I didn't take a picture of the odometer as I normally do, but seems like we ended up with 350 miles for the day.
Another fun day trip!
Bruce
P.S. I just noticed that Bryan's report on his blog is very similar to mine. We've even got some of the same photos posted. Well, it's just a case of great minds thinking alike and all that...
These things are too time consuming to do for me to change it now, so it is what it is. ;)
Riding The Snake
One of our favorite day trips is to wind our way to Boone, North Carolina riding the back roads, then take US 421 over to Shady Valley, Tennessee. From there we will usually take Tennessee Rt 133 to US 58 at Damascus, Virginia and follow it east to Hwy 16 and into Sparta, North Carolina. At that point we will find our way home again following any number of the plentiful North Carolina two lane country roads.
There is a section of US 421 between Mountain City, Tennessee and Shady Valley, Tennessee that is commonly referred to as "The Snake" by riders in this area. It's a little over 10 miles in length and has close to 140 turns and is a hoot to ride.
Once in the town of Shady Valley the locals claim that within a twelve mile radius there are a combined 489 curves on the locals roads and highways. I can't say that we've found them all, but we aren't done trying either.
Shady Valley is also the home to "The Country Store", now known for being a pit stop for riders of all kinds of bikes it also holds claim to being the oldest continually operating business in the state of Tennessee. While nothing fancy it is a welcome sight out in the middle of the Tennessee back country for riders needing a break and wanting to fill their tanks and bellies.
We almost always stop in for a cold drink and sometimes lunch, as well as to check out the bikes in the parking lot. There's always a crowd on the week-ends and there's no telling what, or who you'll see.
On this particular trip during the first week-end of May we rode with our pals and riding buds Teddy and Tim.
Teddy & Tim's Honda VTX 1800 C 
Tim ambling over to the store
Julie & Teddy being silly
You can't miss 'The Country Store', not only well marked there's usually a crowd there too 
Julie & Teddy showing me some love
Leaving Shady Valley on 133 headed towards Damascus, Virginia it doesn't take long to get to one of the stranger sights in the area. It's called "Back Bone Rock".
Back Bone Rock is a natural rock formation that is roughly a half mile long and about ten feet across. It juts up from out of the side of a foothill and ends at a creek.
There were climbers there that day trying their hand at scaling Back Bone Rock
Teddy & Tim making their way up the staircase leading to the top of the rock
"Whew. Made it."
"Oh c'mon Teddy, this is supposed to be fun!"
View from the top
Long way down, huh Tim?
The creek at the end of the formation
The other side of "The Worlds Shortest Tunnel"
Not an exceptionally long ride, but a full day with stops. We had a great time as always with Teddy and Tim and look forward to many more trips with them in the future.
There is a section of US 421 between Mountain City, Tennessee and Shady Valley, Tennessee that is commonly referred to as "The Snake" by riders in this area. It's a little over 10 miles in length and has close to 140 turns and is a hoot to ride.
Once in the town of Shady Valley the locals claim that within a twelve mile radius there are a combined 489 curves on the locals roads and highways. I can't say that we've found them all, but we aren't done trying either.
Shady Valley is also the home to "The Country Store", now known for being a pit stop for riders of all kinds of bikes it also holds claim to being the oldest continually operating business in the state of Tennessee. While nothing fancy it is a welcome sight out in the middle of the Tennessee back country for riders needing a break and wanting to fill their tanks and bellies.
We almost always stop in for a cold drink and sometimes lunch, as well as to check out the bikes in the parking lot. There's always a crowd on the week-ends and there's no telling what, or who you'll see.
On this particular trip during the first week-end of May we rode with our pals and riding buds Teddy and Tim.
Teddy & Tim's Honda VTX 1800 C
Tim ambling over to the store
Julie & Teddy being silly 
You can't miss 'The Country Store', not only well marked there's usually a crowd there too
Typical week end crowd at the store
Julie & Teddy showing me some loveLeaving Shady Valley on 133 headed towards Damascus, Virginia it doesn't take long to get to one of the stranger sights in the area. It's called "Back Bone Rock".
Back Bone Rock is a natural rock formation that is roughly a half mile long and about ten feet across. It juts up from out of the side of a foothill and ends at a creek.
Many years ago when the area was being used as a timber supply there was a need to get trains into the back woods. The loggers and railroaders decided the best way around Back Bone Rock was to go through it and carved the hole you see then built a railroad bed and laid tracks for the train. Once they quit logging the area the tracks were picked up and a road was built on the sight of the original railroad, including what is referred to as "The Worlds Shortest Tunnel" going through Back Bone Rock.
There is now a state park and camp grounds at the base of the rock as well as a hiking trail that takes you up and over the top of the rock.
There were climbers there that day trying their hand at scaling Back Bone Rock
Teddy & Tim making their way up the staircase leading to the top of the rock
"Whew. Made it."
"Oh c'mon Teddy, this is supposed to be fun!"
View from the top 
Long way down, huh Tim?
The creek at the end of the formation
The other side of "The Worlds Shortest Tunnel" 
Not an exceptionally long ride, but a full day with stops. We had a great time as always with Teddy and Tim and look forward to many more trips with them in the future.
Bruce
Florida. Again?
In mid April I had a change in employment, I went to work at another dealership. My new boss was nice enough to allow me a little time off before starting my new job (Thanks Mike!) so that I could go back down to Florida and spend a few more days with my dad. The visit in March was great, but I really wished I had spent more time with him, so this seemed like a good opportunity to do so.
Besides. It was a great excuse for another ride!
This trip would be another solo run and since I'm all about making miles when I'm by myself I didn't take many pictures at all.
I left out on a Saturday morning and put the Nomad in the wind, taking what has become known as 'Florida Route 1' around our house. I.E., I 85 to US 601 to US 301 to US 27, with one slight deviation.
There's really not much to report as I rode pretty much straight through to Baldwin, Florida that day stopping only for fuel for a distance of a little over 500 miles. A little short of my fist solo trip to Florida when I made it as far as Ocala the first day out. My son was still impressed as it took the four of us two days to cover the same distance back in March.
Leaving the next morning I made my change in route by working my way over to US 17 and then down to SR 19 through the Ocala National Forest. I still ended up on US 27 in nearly the same spot as I would have taking US 301 all the way down, but this way gave me a change in scenery. I was glad for the diversion, but to be honest it wasn't all that spectacular. I guess I've grown accustomed to the forests and mountains in our area and am spoiled.
It was late afternoon when I rolled in to Clewiston, and with my detour and sight seeing trip that leg of the trip was a little over 300 miles.
This time around Dad and I visited for two and a half days and had a great time. He was feeling much better after his bought with Phenomena and was his usual self. We spent the better part of one day riding around in his pick up truck just looking around and talking about anything and everything. At one point we made it up to the levy around Lake Okeechobee there at Clewiston and I took these photos.
Pelicans perched on the locks at Clewiston.
Big gator playing opossum.
Besides. It was a great excuse for another ride!
This trip would be another solo run and since I'm all about making miles when I'm by myself I didn't take many pictures at all.
I left out on a Saturday morning and put the Nomad in the wind, taking what has become known as 'Florida Route 1' around our house. I.E., I 85 to US 601 to US 301 to US 27, with one slight deviation.
There's really not much to report as I rode pretty much straight through to Baldwin, Florida that day stopping only for fuel for a distance of a little over 500 miles. A little short of my fist solo trip to Florida when I made it as far as Ocala the first day out. My son was still impressed as it took the four of us two days to cover the same distance back in March.
Leaving the next morning I made my change in route by working my way over to US 17 and then down to SR 19 through the Ocala National Forest. I still ended up on US 27 in nearly the same spot as I would have taking US 301 all the way down, but this way gave me a change in scenery. I was glad for the diversion, but to be honest it wasn't all that spectacular. I guess I've grown accustomed to the forests and mountains in our area and am spoiled.
It was late afternoon when I rolled in to Clewiston, and with my detour and sight seeing trip that leg of the trip was a little over 300 miles.
This time around Dad and I visited for two and a half days and had a great time. He was feeling much better after his bought with Phenomena and was his usual self. We spent the better part of one day riding around in his pick up truck just looking around and talking about anything and everything. At one point we made it up to the levy around Lake Okeechobee there at Clewiston and I took these photos.
Pelicans perched on the locks at Clewiston.
Big gator playing opossum.At first I thought the gator was dead and had washed up on the bank on the far side of the rim canal. But after about 20 minutes or so he lunged and snapped at something making a huge splash and then disappeared under the water. You gotta watch them sneaky devils...
When I left it was close to noon and this time I just beat a path up US 27 to US 301 and stopped again in Baldwin at the same motel and actually got the very same room.
The next day I decided to make another trip deviation and took US 1 at the 301/1 split. It would be more miles, but would allow me to ride some roads I hadn't been on at all, or in a long while. It took a little longer in the end, but I still made it home that day logging in about 550 for the day.
Not much of a report or many pictures, but it was still an enjoyable ride and a great visit with my dad.
Bruce
Spring Break '08 - The Florida Tour
It had been a long winter and everyone was itching for a ride. Our son Bryan and his girl friend Jordan had their spring break during the first weeks of March so Julie and I made plans to take our vacation time then too so that we could all do something together. It had been a while since Julie and Bryan had seen my dad down in Florida so it was decided, a road trip to Florida!
We left on a Saturday afternoon as soon as I got home from work. This put us leaving mid afternoon but that was cool, we knew we wouldn't make it far but at least we'd be on the road.
Kershaw, South Carolina at dusk.
A mural on a building in downtown Kershaw.
We left on a Saturday afternoon as soon as I got home from work. This put us leaving mid afternoon but that was cool, we knew we wouldn't make it far but at least we'd be on the road.
Kershaw, South Carolina at dusk. A mural on a building in downtown Kershaw.We rode down I 85 to Kannapolis, North Carolina where we got on US 601. From there we would stay on 601 all the way to Orangeburg, South Carolina where we would pick up US 301 and stay on it all the way to Florida.
Around dusk we stopped in a little town in South Carolina called Kershaw so that we could stretch our legs and let Julie do her thing and find us a hotel for the night. Being the world traveler she is we assigned her that duty for the whole trip.
While she was doing her thing, Bryan got his camera out and took the two photos posted above. Julie was successful and secured us a room just down the road in Camden, South Carolina for the night.
Once there we checked in and went across the street to a nice local resteraunt for supper, then turned in for the night.
Going out to load the bikes the next morning we were greeted with this;
Obviously it was still cold in the Carolinas! We moved the bikes over to the sunny side of the building and let the sun melt the ice and dry them off some. After breakfast we used towels from the hotel to sry them off completely, then loaded them up with the bags and headed off for our first full day on the road.
Destination; Florida!
Oddly enough, one of the highlights of the trip was the Georgia Welcome Center on US 301 just south of the South Carolina line. Even though it was closed we stopped and took a long break, looking around and taking lots of pictures.
Bryan, Jordan, Julie & Bruce. Playing with the tri-pod and camera timer.
Bryan hunting for things to take pictures of.
Oh look, he found Jordan.
"Are you taking my picture?"
"Oh no, not again..."
Who's momma talking to?
"OK, I'll let you take just one more."
Bryan, Jordan, Julie & Bruce. Playing with the tri-pod and camera timer.
Bryan hunting for things to take pictures of.
Oh look, he found Jordan.
"Are you taking my picture?"
"Oh no, not again..."
Who's momma talking to?
"OK, I'll let you take just one more."
When we finally left the Welcome Center we stayed on US 301 and went into Statesboro and stopped for fuel and lunch. Once we left there we basically only stopped when we needed fuel all the way down into Florida.
Julie found us a hotel right on A1A at Fernandina Beach, Florida and we made it there before dark. That night we had seafood for supper and then took a long stroll on the beach in the moon light capping off a wonderful day.
We got up early (*cough cough*) and left Fernandina Beach heading down A1A. It was a beautiful Florida day and we were all excited about what the day had in store for us.
We barely had time to get out of our helmets, get out our cameras, then put them up and on again before the ride was over!
The parking lot at the hotel in Fernandina Beach, Florida.
We didn't go far before we had to board a ferry in order to cross the St. Johns River. After a couple of ferry boat rides on the North Carolina Outer Banks Julie and I were expecting a lengthy cruise. Imagine our surprise when we found out that we were literally just crossing the river, about a 10 minute ride!
We barely had time to get out of our helmets, get out our cameras, then put them up and on again before the ride was over!
Riding further south we came to St. Augustine and came upon this fort used first by the Spanish and later by colonials in the Revolutionary War.
Bryan & Jordan strike a pose.
Bruce, Jordan & Bryan acting like tourists.
After leaving St. Augustine we continued on down A1A towards Daytona Beach. Although we didn't plan it this way, it was the first Monday of Daytona Bike Week. None of us had ever been, and even though we don't normally go in for bike rallies and such things we were all looking forward to riding through Daytona and seeing what it was all about. 
Bryan & Jordan strike a pose. 
Display showing the different cannons used in the fort over the years.
Bruce, Jordan & Bryan acting like tourists.After leaving St. Augustine we continued on down A1A towards Daytona Beach. Although we didn't plan it this way, it was the first Monday of Daytona Bike Week. None of us had ever been, and even though we don't normally go in for bike rallies and such things we were all looking forward to riding through Daytona and seeing what it was all about.
I wish I could say it was a pleasant experience...
The traffic started about 30 miles north of Daytona and got worse the closer we got to Daytona. From that point until we finally got off A1A at New Smyrna Beach I don't think we ever got out of 2nd gear. It was mile after drudging mile of stop and go, wall to wall traffic.
Daytona itself was a nightmare. I don't remember ever seeing so many bikes in one place before. I also don't ever remember seeing so many jack asses, or motorcycle trailers (can you say 'trailer queens'?) in one place either. We had wanted to stop someplace and get a couple of t-shirts, but ended up going to the south side of Daytona before we could even change lanes to get over and stop! Even with our signals on no one would let us over and more than a few 'bikers' flipped us off when they got beside us in the lane we were trying to get to!
At one point near the middle of town we had two guys on customs come out of a side street past a traffic cop and cut us off at the light! One came so close to me that we almost hit. Then these two lunatics stopped less than 20 yards ahead at the next traffic light in the turn lane heading to the beach. Once stopped they turned around and laughed looking in our direction.
We did manage to get stopped and went in to three different shops looking for a shirt or two. Everything we found was either decidedly Harley-ish, vulgar and rude or all of the above. We left empty handed, and glad to be heading out of town in one piece.
Never again.
It took over four and a half hours to go the 40 or so miles we were in that freak show. What that effectively did was use up the time we had figured we'd have to go all the way down A1A to the Vero Beach area. Instead we were forced to get out on I 95 and haul tail down to SR 70 so that we could make it into Clewiston that night.
It's my own fault, I should have known better. Next time I will know to avoid it like the plague.
As we were headed south on I 95 a storm blew up, threatening to rain on us, but thankfully it never did. Bryan took the photos above while we were stopped for fuel somewhere along the way on I 95.
We headed east on SR 70 towards Okeechobee after getting off I 95. It was getting late in the day and we still had a ways to go. The problem was that the low beam side of the headlight bulb had burned out the day before. We had stopped north of Daytona and bought a bulb, but hadn't taken the time to replace it. Being this close to 'home' I knew there was no way we'd be in Clewiston before dark.
We picked up SR 78 in Okeechobee and headed towards Moore Haven and US 27, it still wasn't dark but it wasn't far off either. I had been using my high beam light all day, as I normally do, but now it was beginning to bother the on coming traffic. Both of the accessory lights on the light bar were still operational, so we could be seen and had some light, just not much when we met on-coming traffic.
By the time we reached US 27 it was definitely dark-thirty though and we would be getting on a major 4 lane highway with a good deal of traffic. Merging onto the highway south bound I got on the radio and told Bryan that once we cleared Moore Haven it would be 12 miles of open road before we got to the outskirts of Clewiston. Once out of town I wanted him to tuck up in behind me and to my left so that I could use his lights as much as possible. He understood and did as I asked.
The road to Clewiston is basically straight having only one turn at the intersection of SR 60 & US 27, so it wouldn't be that hard to maintain our positions and it turned out to be a piece of cake. It was also cool as heck to ride up close and in formation with my son for that many miles on end. He and I have ridden in very close proximity on the dirt bikes, showing each other a fender in turns and bumping elbows on rough straights, but this was another first for us.
I'm proud to say my boy is a rider and handled it like a pro.
We checked into the motel, and like the back-asswards dummies we sometimes are, changed the headlight bulb. Then got some supper and settled in for the night.
Dad's house in Clewiston, where I grew up.
The canal in front of his house.
Another view of the canal and the palms lining it.
My Dad.
His wife Eleanor.
Sassy the wiener dog.
Sassy loves Bryan. Sassy loves everybody!
Miranda, dad and Eleanore's granddaughter and Julie play stick ball in the back yard.
Bryan, Jordan and Miranda on the front porch. 
Miranda and Bryan playing.
We picked up SR 78 in Okeechobee and headed towards Moore Haven and US 27, it still wasn't dark but it wasn't far off either. I had been using my high beam light all day, as I normally do, but now it was beginning to bother the on coming traffic. Both of the accessory lights on the light bar were still operational, so we could be seen and had some light, just not much when we met on-coming traffic.
By the time we reached US 27 it was definitely dark-thirty though and we would be getting on a major 4 lane highway with a good deal of traffic. Merging onto the highway south bound I got on the radio and told Bryan that once we cleared Moore Haven it would be 12 miles of open road before we got to the outskirts of Clewiston. Once out of town I wanted him to tuck up in behind me and to my left so that I could use his lights as much as possible. He understood and did as I asked.
The road to Clewiston is basically straight having only one turn at the intersection of SR 60 & US 27, so it wouldn't be that hard to maintain our positions and it turned out to be a piece of cake. It was also cool as heck to ride up close and in formation with my son for that many miles on end. He and I have ridden in very close proximity on the dirt bikes, showing each other a fender in turns and bumping elbows on rough straights, but this was another first for us.
I'm proud to say my boy is a rider and handled it like a pro.
We checked into the motel, and like the back-asswards dummies we sometimes are, changed the headlight bulb. Then got some supper and settled in for the night.
Dad's house in Clewiston, where I grew up. The canal in front of his house. Another view of the canal and the palms lining it.
My Dad.
His wife Eleanor.
Dad had been in the hospital with Pneumonia prior to our arrival and was released the day after we got there. He was still weak from it, but in good spirits and looked great!
Sassy the wiener dog.
Sassy loves Bryan. Sassy loves everybody!
Miranda, dad and Eleanore's granddaughter and Julie play stick ball in the back yard. 
Bryan, Jordan and Miranda on the front porch.
Miranda and Bryan playing. We rode over to Lake Harbor and stopped at the "John Stretch Park". The park has a ball field, play ground area, picnic tables, a pavilion, an historic pump display as well as access to Lake Okeechobee.
Julie on the slide. Weeeeeee!!!!
Jordan's turn!
Bryan, as usual, does it his way...
...and gets a face full of sand in the process.
Whoops!
The pho-tog at work.
Jordan walking down the dike.
Bryan and Jordan by the rim canal on Lake Okeechobee.
Me telling the kids about having to drag a piece of truck tire out of that pump when it became lodged in the impeller assembly. "It was about this long and..."
These are huge engines that due to the long stroke of the crank would only reach a maximum of 350 RPM's. You could almost count each stroke while it was running and the older pump operators could tell when they lost oil pressure just by the sound of the exhaust note.
This picture gives you an idea to the enormous size of the engine.
Cheese!
Julie on the slide. Weeeeeee!!!! Jordan's turn! Bryan, as usual, does it his way... ...and gets a face full of sand in the process. Whoops!
The pho-tog at work.
Jordan walking down the dike.
Bryan and Jordan by the rim canal on Lake Okeechobee.For well over 20 years my father was the General Manager and head engineer for several of the local drainage districts. It was a rewarding job for him and provided me with an interesting childhood at times.
While most people took shelter from the tropical storms and hurricanes that are so predominate to Florida, we were out working. Making sure pumps were operating, storm gates were in position and that local towns and sugar cane fields didn't flood.
The photos below are of an engine and section of pump tube that was in a pumping station in one of dad's drainage districts until a few years ago. I have actually started and ran that very engine and pump on many, many occasions and helped put crank and rod bearings in it one time too.
It was the last of a dying breed of engines used in some of the older stations. Originally installed in the 20's they were all eventually replaced with Caterpillar industrial engines.
Me telling the kids about having to drag a piece of truck tire out of that pump when it became lodged in the impeller assembly. "It was about this long and..." 
These are huge engines that due to the long stroke of the crank would only reach a maximum of 350 RPM's. You could almost count each stroke while it was running and the older pump operators could tell when they lost oil pressure just by the sound of the exhaust note. 
This picture gives you an idea to the enormous size of the engine. 
Cheese! We visited dad for a couple of days and then it was back on the road again. Places to go, things to see, miles to cover...
We decided to start our trip back by taking US 27 out of Clewiston and going up through the center of the state. This would take us out of sugar cane country, into the citrus belt and through a part of Florida that Julie and I had lived and worked in.
Our first stop was just south of Lake Placid near the intersection of US 27 and SR 70. We pulled off onto an orange grove access road and parked so that we could walk around and show the kids an orange grove.
Our first stop was just south of Lake Placid near the intersection of US 27 and SR 70. We pulled off onto an orange grove access road and parked so that we could walk around and show the kids an orange grove.
Jordan, being the adventurous type, decided to take me up on trying out a fresh Florida orange.
She seemed to like them, and Bryan said that they were the sweetest oranges he'd ever had.
Our next stop was going to be in Sebring, where Julie and I lived for a time after we were first married. We wanted to show the kids where we lived as well as a couple of our favorite places.
She seemed to like them, and Bryan said that they were the sweetest oranges he'd ever had.
Our next stop was going to be in Sebring, where Julie and I lived for a time after we were first married. We wanted to show the kids where we lived as well as a couple of our favorite places.
We went to the Highlands Hammock State Park first. The park has many hiking trails including some that have 'cat walks' that take you out into the hammocks and low lands that are preserved in their natural state.
On these 'cat walks' we were able to see not only the plant life that are natural to the area, but wild life as well.
We came upon some other park visitors that told us that they had seen the alligator pictured below eat a huge fish, then crawl up on the bank. They said that "He must be pretty proud of himself because he's been grinning ever since!"
We printed the above photo and have it framed and hanging up in our basement den. He will always be referred to as "Smiley".
We printed the above photo and have it framed and hanging up in our basement den. He will always be referred to as "Smiley".
We wandered around a few more trails and visited the park museum before leaving and then heading over to the Sebring International Raceway, the home of the 12 Hours of Sebring endurance race.
Arriving at S.I.R. we could tell that they were beginning to ready themselves for the upcoming 12 hour race that was just a few weeks away. Since the last time I was there had been a gift shop and information center added so we parked the bikes and went in.
Inside we found one of the diesel powered Audi Le Mans Prototype cars on display as well as all sorts of memorabilia for $ale. We passed on buying anything because quite frankly they were way too expensive for our tastes. However, while inside Bryan and I both heard the unmistakable sounds of high revving race engines being run, and run hard! Hot damn!
We asked the ladies working the the gift shop what was going on and they told us that the only thing they knew of that it might be was a driving school. Most of theses schools utilize production based cars and Bryan and I both knew that wasn't what were we hearing. So we got on the bikes and rode around the streets that lead to the back side of the industrial park and airport to see what was going on.
Here's what we found;
Neither of us are huge open wheel race fans, but it was obvious that it was an Indy car test session going on. We couldn't figure out if it was a single team (Penske maybe) test, an engine test (all were Honda powered) or a tire test.
Inside we found one of the diesel powered Audi Le Mans Prototype cars on display as well as all sorts of memorabilia for $ale. We passed on buying anything because quite frankly they were way too expensive for our tastes. However, while inside Bryan and I both heard the unmistakable sounds of high revving race engines being run, and run hard! Hot damn!
We asked the ladies working the the gift shop what was going on and they told us that the only thing they knew of that it might be was a driving school. Most of theses schools utilize production based cars and Bryan and I both knew that wasn't what were we hearing. So we got on the bikes and rode around the streets that lead to the back side of the industrial park and airport to see what was going on.
Here's what we found;
Neither of us are huge open wheel race fans, but it was obvious that it was an Indy car test session going on. We couldn't figure out if it was a single team (Penske maybe) test, an engine test (all were Honda powered) or a tire test.
Whatever was going on, they were only using the back side of the race track and were definitely hauling the mail. Those things had incredible corner speed and held the track like nothing I've ever seen. Very impressive.
After about an hour (or so...) we left S.I.R. and worked our way up US 27 to Frostproof, and rode by the house where my family and I lived for a time, then continued up old 27 through Babson Park and into Lake Wales where we stopped for the night.
The next moring we left Lake Wales heading towards Ocala. Julie and Jordan had graciously agreed to allow the gearhead guys a stop off at "Big Daddy" Don Garlit's Museum of Drag Racing, even though it meant they'd be bored to tears while Bryan and I drooled and lusted over the race cars.
Even as a kid in the late 60's I was a huge drag racing fan and 'Big Daddy' was already an icon in the sport. As he was also a Florida native it's easy to understand why he would be one of my hero's.
Top Fuel dragster have always been the kings of the sport, and have always been the fastest wheel driven vehicles in the world. Garlits was a pioneer in the sport as well as an innovator and has produced head turning and race winning cars, as well as ones that changed the sport forever.
His greatest contribution though has to be the rear engine design. Up until 1970 Top Fuel drivers sat behind the engine and directly on top of the clutch assembly and rear axle housing. In 1970 Garlits experienced a catastrophic clutch failure right off the starting line the resulted in the car breaking in two and the loss of part of his right foot.
What followed was a long line of very innovative and successful dragsters that kept the competition wondering what would come out of Florida next.
Garlit's was always a showman and was always fast, even while crashing! One of his cars now resides permanently in the Smithsonian Institution in Washington D.C.
Even as a kid in the late 60's I was a huge drag racing fan and 'Big Daddy' was already an icon in the sport. As he was also a Florida native it's easy to understand why he would be one of my hero's.
Top Fuel dragster have always been the kings of the sport, and have always been the fastest wheel driven vehicles in the world. Garlits was a pioneer in the sport as well as an innovator and has produced head turning and race winning cars, as well as ones that changed the sport forever.
His greatest contribution though has to be the rear engine design. Up until 1970 Top Fuel drivers sat behind the engine and directly on top of the clutch assembly and rear axle housing. In 1970 Garlits experienced a catastrophic clutch failure right off the starting line the resulted in the car breaking in two and the loss of part of his right foot.
Rather than quit the sport he loves, Garlits turned the drag racing world on it's head by designing and building the sports first rear engined top fuel car.
What followed was a long line of very innovative and successful dragsters that kept the competition wondering what would come out of Florida next.
Garlit's was always a showman and was always fast, even while crashing! One of his cars now resides permanently in the Smithsonian Institution in Washington D.C.
After a brief retirement Garlits built what has to be the epitome of the Top Fuel design. While retired and working as a television commentator Garlits realized that the then current top fuel teams weren't fully taking advantage of aerodynamics and designed what has been dubbed "The Mono Wing" car, Swamp Rat 34.
The car was so fast that the NHRA outlawed many of the design features in an effort to slow the cars down! Garlit's retired again and now operates the museum full time.
We left the museum after several hours (thanks girls!!!) and headed out on the back roads of central and northern Florida.
After a few hours of riding among the Live Oak trees and Florida back woods we came upon the historic Swannee River. I decided it was time for a break and found a place to pull over.
I told Bryan and Jordan we were at the Suwanne River and all they could both manage was a "Huh?" So I sang a few lines from the song... *ahem* "Waaaay down upon the Suwanneee River, far far awaaay..."
Again. "Huh?" "Have you lost your mind?"
We parked the bikes, got our cameras and began to look around. Julie found a spot that allowed us to get by the rivers edge then she began to look around at the trees and plants that were growing there.
I told Bryan and Jordan we were at the Suwanne River and all they could both manage was a "Huh?" So I sang a few lines from the song... *ahem* "Waaaay down upon the Suwanneee River, far far awaaay..."
Again. "Huh?" "Have you lost your mind?"
We parked the bikes, got our cameras and began to look around. Julie found a spot that allowed us to get by the rivers edge then she began to look around at the trees and plants that were growing there.
As you can tell from the photos, it was really nice at this little cove. The river was flowing, but the only way you could tell it was by looking at the water as it went around limbs or other things in the the water. Other wise it was as smooth as glass.
We were done taking pictures and looking around and decided that while we were stopped we'd go ahead and book our hotel rooms for the night. Julie got out her hotel directory and ever present cell phone, I got the road map and we went to work. That's when another one of those neat things that seem to only happen when we're on a bike trip occurred.
We began to hear the sound of a flute or similar instrument in the distance. The music seemed to be dancing on the wind and was the most haunting melody, like nothing I've ever heard before. It continued for the longest time, in fact the musician played long enough that Julie and I were able to get the rooms booked and Bryan and Jordan were able to get our camera back out a take some video footage, recording the music using the audio while filming..
I remembered seeing a sign before we crossed the river and stopped for a campground that was close by and on the riverside. The sign also made mention of Seminole Indian information, souvenirs and live shows and figured that the music must have been one of the shows.
We packed up and got back on the bikes headed for Valdosta, Georgia for the night.
We rode for another hour or so before arriving at Valdosta, Georgia and then finding the hotel. All in all it had been a wonderful day.
Just checked in to the hotel in Valdosta, Georgia, Bryan is wishing Jordan and Julie would hurry up. He's ready to go get some grub.
Just checked in to the hotel in Valdosta, Georgia, Bryan is wishing Jordan and Julie would hurry up. He's ready to go get some grub.
We were under the shelter in front of the hotel in Valdosta loading the bikes and covering the luggage. There was no question we were going to get wet.
At one point I noticed a man standing in front of a car was watching us intently. At first I just figured it was another non-rider wondering why we would head out on motorcycles knowing we were going to get wet. But the guy actually looked very familiar to me. Then it hit me. I looked over his way and struck up a conversation, as soon as I heard his voice I knew it was drag racing legend Bob Glidden! Bryan and I shook his hand, introduced ourselves and talked to him for a bit. Someone came out from inside the hotel and walked up asking if he was ready. They were testing a new Pro Stock car that Bob is the crew chief on at a local drag strip (if the weather held) and they had to go. Bryan and I were star struck...
We ate lunch across from the hotel and while in there the bottom fell out. We had taken our rain gear in with us and after paying the bill we all stood in the waiting area of the restaurant getting suited up. We also got more of those strange looks.
It was raining when we left out of the parking lot and it rained on us most of the rest of the day. Late in the day it did let up and we were able to come out of our rain gear. It was getting close to dark so we decided to call it a day and found a suitable hotel in a little town called Madison, Georgia.
At one point I noticed a man standing in front of a car was watching us intently. At first I just figured it was another non-rider wondering why we would head out on motorcycles knowing we were going to get wet. But the guy actually looked very familiar to me. Then it hit me. I looked over his way and struck up a conversation, as soon as I heard his voice I knew it was drag racing legend Bob Glidden! Bryan and I shook his hand, introduced ourselves and talked to him for a bit. Someone came out from inside the hotel and walked up asking if he was ready. They were testing a new Pro Stock car that Bob is the crew chief on at a local drag strip (if the weather held) and they had to go. Bryan and I were star struck...
We ate lunch across from the hotel and while in there the bottom fell out. We had taken our rain gear in with us and after paying the bill we all stood in the waiting area of the restaurant getting suited up. We also got more of those strange looks.
It was raining when we left out of the parking lot and it rained on us most of the rest of the day. Late in the day it did let up and we were able to come out of our rain gear. It was getting close to dark so we decided to call it a day and found a suitable hotel in a little town called Madison, Georgia.
Trying to dry out our boots after spending the better part of the day in the rain between Valdosta, Georgia and Madison, Georgia.
We didn't take any photos after we stopped in Madison for the night. So the rest of this report will be text only, but I'll try to be brief. The problem is that it's a pretty funny story. Now. It wasn't to funny at the time.
As usual we watched the local weather that night. The forecast was for cold, brisk temperatures, but dry. We all got prepared for what we hoped would just be a cold start to the day that would hopefully warm up as it went on.
Ha!
As we packed the bikes with our luggage near the front door of the hotel many of the other guests were giving us that "Oh my lord they're going to be cold!" look. The weatherman missed it. As it turned out, by a mile. It wasn't just cold, it was COLD! Not only that but it was starting to misty rain.
For the record, I wanted to wimp out and hold up right there. But nooooo. Julie decided that we might be able to get out of the weather if we went on.
Ha! Again!
The misting rain kinda sorta stopped and it just became...wet. But the further we went, the colder it got. Then an interesting thing happened.
It started to SNOW!
And I don't mean just a flake here and there, or just a touch of heavy precip. Nope. I'm talking big ol' flakes blowing sideways in the wind.
Bryan told me over the radio that he and Jordan needed to stop and warm up and frankly I did too. Plus I wasn't real thrilled to be riding a motorcycle in the snow. We stopped at the very next exit and pulled into a Waffle House parking lot.
Now, let me set this up. It's snowing. Two bikes with two riders each pull into the parking lot. It's snowing. Each of the riders are wearing rains suits and more. It's snowing. The bikes park and the riders dismount. One takes off her helmet and goes into the Waffle House headed for the bathroom. The others all leave their helmets on and are kneeling beside the bikes. Did I mention it was snowing?
It must have looked real strange to the patrons of the Waffle House.
As I knelt by the Nomad warming my hands on the clutch cover I intently listened to the NOAA weather radio on the comm unit and watched as the snow began to fall harder. I turned and glanced over at the kids who were both huddled over the FZ with their hands on its clutch cover. I glanced at the snow once again, then looked towards the restaurant and saw that every single person in the place was looking at us. And all of them had one of two looks on their faces;
"Oh those poor people..."
"Look at those dumb asses..."
When Julie came back I told her that according to the radio the snow wasn't going to let up. Bryan then told her (and I know he regrets having said this to his mother now...) "I can't do this Mom." So we all decided enough was enough and we had to find a motel. Now.
Fortunately there was one just down the street and we checked in. It was 9:30 am and we had made it 40 miles up the road to Athens, Georgia.
We should have just stayed where we were. Like I wanted to in the first place. (I just had to say that.)
It was a very long day. We had pizza delivered for lunch and sub sandwiches for supper. We watched several movies and repeats of the road races held in Daytona a few days earlier.
The snow finally let up a little while after lunch. I'm going to guess a half inch or so fell. It was bad enough in Atlanta that NASCAR had to cancel practice for the cup cars and a few races as well that were being held that week-end.
We all went to bed early, hoping for better weather the next day.
As usual we watched the local weather that night. The forecast was for cold, brisk temperatures, but dry. We all got prepared for what we hoped would just be a cold start to the day that would hopefully warm up as it went on.
Ha!
As we packed the bikes with our luggage near the front door of the hotel many of the other guests were giving us that "Oh my lord they're going to be cold!" look. The weatherman missed it. As it turned out, by a mile. It wasn't just cold, it was COLD! Not only that but it was starting to misty rain.
For the record, I wanted to wimp out and hold up right there. But nooooo. Julie decided that we might be able to get out of the weather if we went on.
Ha! Again!
The misting rain kinda sorta stopped and it just became...wet. But the further we went, the colder it got. Then an interesting thing happened.
It started to SNOW!
And I don't mean just a flake here and there, or just a touch of heavy precip. Nope. I'm talking big ol' flakes blowing sideways in the wind.
Bryan told me over the radio that he and Jordan needed to stop and warm up and frankly I did too. Plus I wasn't real thrilled to be riding a motorcycle in the snow. We stopped at the very next exit and pulled into a Waffle House parking lot.
Now, let me set this up. It's snowing. Two bikes with two riders each pull into the parking lot. It's snowing. Each of the riders are wearing rains suits and more. It's snowing. The bikes park and the riders dismount. One takes off her helmet and goes into the Waffle House headed for the bathroom. The others all leave their helmets on and are kneeling beside the bikes. Did I mention it was snowing?
It must have looked real strange to the patrons of the Waffle House.
As I knelt by the Nomad warming my hands on the clutch cover I intently listened to the NOAA weather radio on the comm unit and watched as the snow began to fall harder. I turned and glanced over at the kids who were both huddled over the FZ with their hands on its clutch cover. I glanced at the snow once again, then looked towards the restaurant and saw that every single person in the place was looking at us. And all of them had one of two looks on their faces;
"Oh those poor people..."
"Look at those dumb asses..."
When Julie came back I told her that according to the radio the snow wasn't going to let up. Bryan then told her (and I know he regrets having said this to his mother now...) "I can't do this Mom." So we all decided enough was enough and we had to find a motel. Now.
Fortunately there was one just down the street and we checked in. It was 9:30 am and we had made it 40 miles up the road to Athens, Georgia.
We should have just stayed where we were. Like I wanted to in the first place. (I just had to say that.)
It was a very long day. We had pizza delivered for lunch and sub sandwiches for supper. We watched several movies and repeats of the road races held in Daytona a few days earlier.
The snow finally let up a little while after lunch. I'm going to guess a half inch or so fell. It was bad enough in Atlanta that NASCAR had to cancel practice for the cup cars and a few races as well that were being held that week-end.
We all went to bed early, hoping for better weather the next day.
The last day of the trip was simply a long cold ride from Athens back the house. We left dressed with as much cold weather gear as we had, in fact everyone but me was wearing their rain gear in a effort to add another layer between them and the cold.
We stopped twice for fuel and grabbed some lunch at one of those stops. Otherwise we soldiered on, straight up I-85. Bryan and I both were dealing with numbing fingers but fortunately it was minimal and we made it home by early afternoon.
It was a great trip. One that we all enjoyed and left us with many fond memories. It wet Bryan's whistle for long mileage trips and scratched my itch for them.
Briefly anyway.
About a month after this trip I changed jobs and decided to take a week off before starting my new one. During that week a headed back down to Dad's on another solo trip. I made better time by myself, but it was loads more fun with the gang!
We stopped twice for fuel and grabbed some lunch at one of those stops. Otherwise we soldiered on, straight up I-85. Bryan and I both were dealing with numbing fingers but fortunately it was minimal and we made it home by early afternoon.
It was a great trip. One that we all enjoyed and left us with many fond memories. It wet Bryan's whistle for long mileage trips and scratched my itch for them.
Briefly anyway.
About a month after this trip I changed jobs and decided to take a week off before starting my new one. During that week a headed back down to Dad's on another solo trip. I made better time by myself, but it was loads more fun with the gang!
The Nomad trip meter reads 1841.5 miles. The FZ6's reads 1867.5. Guess we'll split the middle and call it 1850 miles for the trip.Bruce
October 2007 - The Stable Grows
Bryan and I have both had motorcycles and could go riding together since I got back into the sport and he first became a rider on his fifth birthday in April of 1992.
That changed when Julie and I bought the Nomad in August of 2004.
We still had the dirt bikes and did ride and race them some after that, but when it came time to hit the road as opposed to the woods Bryan couldn't go. Which broke my heart. Especially since he made a point to get a motorcycle endorsement on his driver licence as soon as he was able to.
Bryan rode the Nomad every once in a while. He'd take it out on afternoon rides around the county some, and he and Jordan made a trip or two on it too. He seemed to enjoy riding on road, but since we couldn't ride together it was hard to really tell.
This past August Bryan and Jordan went with Julie and I on a three day, two night road trip to the western North Carolina mountains. My buddy Billy stepped up to the plate and allowed us to use his VTX1300 for the kids to ride on the trip. We all had a great time and it was easy to see that not only did Bryan enjoy it, but Jordan did too!
The problem was that with Bryan attending college buying him a new bike, or even used bike just didn't seem to be in the cards for us.
That changed in late October. The shop I was working at took a 2005 Yamaha FZ6 in on trade and they got it for a song.
That changed when Julie and I bought the Nomad in August of 2004.
We still had the dirt bikes and did ride and race them some after that, but when it came time to hit the road as opposed to the woods Bryan couldn't go. Which broke my heart. Especially since he made a point to get a motorcycle endorsement on his driver licence as soon as he was able to.
Bryan rode the Nomad every once in a while. He'd take it out on afternoon rides around the county some, and he and Jordan made a trip or two on it too. He seemed to enjoy riding on road, but since we couldn't ride together it was hard to really tell.
This past August Bryan and Jordan went with Julie and I on a three day, two night road trip to the western North Carolina mountains. My buddy Billy stepped up to the plate and allowed us to use his VTX1300 for the kids to ride on the trip. We all had a great time and it was easy to see that not only did Bryan enjoy it, but Jordan did too!
The problem was that with Bryan attending college buying him a new bike, or even used bike just didn't seem to be in the cards for us.
That changed in late October. The shop I was working at took a 2005 Yamaha FZ6 in on trade and they got it for a song.
The first week the shop had the bike I put a dealer tag on it and borrowed it for the week-end. He, Julie and I took off for a day ride up into the northern North Carolina mountains for a 'test ride'. Bryan loved the bike and it performed flawlessly, the hook was set for he and I both now.Long story short, we figured out how to get it for him and in late October Bryan officially became a street rider too.
Jordan and Bryan get ready for a ride.Bryan (and Jordan!) have enjoyed the bike tremendously. It works well for short day rides and with the addition of a luggage rack, some bags and a communications device it works as a sport tourer too.
Overall, it has been a good addition to the family.
Bruce
October 2007 - The Gomer Pyle Bridge
This, unfortunately won’t be a “ride report” as much as a “destination report”. I once heard it said that younger or new riders choose destinations while older and experienced riders choose directions. My wife and I picked a destination, and while any day on a motorcycle is certainly better than most any day… period, it wasn't one of our best rides.
But it was a cool place.
It all started a few weeks ago when we made that West Virginia trip. Both of us wanted to go back and spend more time in WV as opposed to looping into and right back out again. But we only had the option of a day ride, so time and mileage would be a factor.
When I told a very good friend about our last trip up that way he suggested that the next time we should go see (Remember as you read this we’re southerners) the “Gauley Bridge”.
I responded “Golly Bridge? You mean like Gomer Pile? Welllll Golllll-eeee?”
“No you idiot.” My friend said. “Gauley Bridge. It’s the bridge that spans the New River Gorge up in WV.”
Doing a quick Internet search I found that my friend was the ‘idiot’ (at least he is also an idiot) because what he was talking about is called “The New RiverGorge Bridge” and it is located outside of Fayetteville, WV. As it turns out there is a town named “Gauley Bridge" fairly close by, so I guess I have to give him some credit for at least being, ummm, close.
I figured the mileage from our place up to Fayetteville and found that it was a bit over 200 miles, via the interstate. That being the case my wife and I decided that if we were going to make this trip, we’d leave early (cough, cough) and bust a trail straight up to it, check it out, then decide which way to come back.
We managed to pull out of the house at 9:00 am… Using our last WV trip as a guide we followed the same basic route, which put on a four lane U.S. highway, then I-77, which we would take all the way to Beckley, WV, then we’d get on U.S. 19, as the bridge is part of U.S. 19 I figured it would be fairly easy to spot.
It was. http://www.roadstothefuture.com/New_River_Gorge_Br.html
But it was a cool place.
It all started a few weeks ago when we made that West Virginia trip. Both of us wanted to go back and spend more time in WV as opposed to looping into and right back out again. But we only had the option of a day ride, so time and mileage would be a factor.
When I told a very good friend about our last trip up that way he suggested that the next time we should go see (Remember as you read this we’re southerners) the “Gauley Bridge”.
I responded “Golly Bridge? You mean like Gomer Pile? Welllll Golllll-eeee?”
“No you idiot.” My friend said. “Gauley Bridge. It’s the bridge that spans the New River Gorge up in WV.”
Doing a quick Internet search I found that my friend was the ‘idiot’ (at least he is also an idiot) because what he was talking about is called “The New RiverGorge Bridge” and it is located outside of Fayetteville, WV. As it turns out there is a town named “Gauley Bridge" fairly close by, so I guess I have to give him some credit for at least being, ummm, close.
I figured the mileage from our place up to Fayetteville and found that it was a bit over 200 miles, via the interstate. That being the case my wife and I decided that if we were going to make this trip, we’d leave early (cough, cough) and bust a trail straight up to it, check it out, then decide which way to come back.
We managed to pull out of the house at 9:00 am… Using our last WV trip as a guide we followed the same basic route, which put on a four lane U.S. highway, then I-77, which we would take all the way to Beckley, WV, then we’d get on U.S. 19, as the bridge is part of U.S. 19 I figured it would be fairly easy to spot.
It was. http://www.roadstothefuture.com/New_River_Gorge_Br.html
It’s actually a good thing that we rode over the bridge before we got to the overlook and visitors center, because if I had seen this thing before going over it, I’m not sure I would have!We toured the visitors center and were impressed with the displays showing how this mega-structure was built. The visitors center also had some things on the local history, which as you might expect, was mostly coal mining. There was also a ‘porch’ on the back side of the building that afforded a wonderful view of the New River. After that we walked the scenic trail out to the observation point.
It is truly an amazing sight.
When we left the center we followed ‘the old road’ that was the only way to cross the river before the bridge was built. On this road we found ourselves at the base of the arch of the bridge and I have to tell you that from that vantage point it was awe inspiring. How man can construct such a thing is amazing.
Then, because of time constraints and the mileage involved we headed home…on the exact same route we went up. So my actual ‘ride’ report goes something like this;Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...
The endless droning of the V&H pipes at roughly 80 mph for four hours each way (counting fuel and food breaks) as we flowed with traffic on one of our countries great interstate systems.
We pulled back into the house at roughly 7:00 pm, and the trip meter read 434.5 miles.
I suppose the casual observer might think “You rode over 400 miles to see a bridge? ”No, we rode over 400 miles AND saw a bridge. There's a difference.
Truth is, we’ll never make that trip again. Riding only four lanes and interstates just isn’t our thing. We absolutely know that for sure now. My ears are still ringing. But as I said earlier, a day riding is better than a day not riding.
If you ever find yourself near the area, the bridge is a sight to behold, and that part of the country is beautiful. I highly recommend a detour to see it. As for us, we just won’t be headed back that way again for the sole purpose of seeing it, and only it.
Bruce
September 2007 - West By-Gawd Virginia
All week long I'd been looking forward to going riding over the week-end. My mind was in the long week-end long miles mode, but it just wasn't in the cards for this week-end.
Sunday morning rolled around and as usual we, or more specifically, I was slow to get up and moving so it was almost 10:00 before we finally got out and on to the road and rolling. I asked my lovely wife Julie over the intercom where she wanted to go and she told me that it really didn't matter, she too just wanted to ride. In the back of my mind I was thinking about heading to West Virginia but figured it was too far away and we were leaving too late in the day for that kind of trip.
I headed up US 52 out of Lexington figuring on going due north for a bit and just see what developed. Somewhere along the way a thought came to mind. Just ride 52 north until we ran low on fuel, then go from there. That line of thought led me to calculate in my mind about where that would be, which I figured to be somewhere north of Fancy Gap, Va. But we had been up that way recently and I was itching for something new, or at least different.
By now we were north of Winston-Salem, still running at highway speeds up US 52. The bike was, as always, running great, traffic was light and the feeling of making time and getting up the road was intoxicating. So I recalculated our re-fuel point if we took theI-74 cut off over to I-77 and kept going north and came up with Wythville, Va or somewhere there abouts.
Merging onto I-74 without so much as letting out of the throttle we headed west bound. A few miles later and we were at the intersection of 74 & 77. We merged onto 77 north and we headed up the mountain. As a rule 4 lanes and interstates aren't our thing, but today seemed different. The bike really seemed to be enjoying stretching it's legs.
The view along the section of I-77 that the truckers refer to as Fancy Gap grade is always spectacular and with traffic still being light I was able to enjoy it. As we got near the top of the mountain I asked Julie if she wanted to head over to the Blue Ridge Parkway or keep going north. "Keep going north." Apparently she was digging it too. I told her I'd been thinking about going to WV just about the time a road sign came into view showing Bluefield was 70 some odd miles away. She said that lunch in Bluefield sounded like agood idea.
We arrived in Bluefield a short time later and found a fast food place to stop for lunch. I brought a map in with us and while we ate we discussed the rest of the trip.
After lunch we headed north on US 52, heading towards the town of Welch and highway 16 a little over 30 miles away. 52 through that part of WV is a two lane black top, traveling through small towns and burgs that appear to be very old and for the most part in pretty bad shape. Many vacant buildings and at least one or more burned out building or home in each community. The road itself is in good shape, but as you wind your way through the towns it seems very...narrow. The buildings and homes are all close to the roadway, as is the ever present railroad and creek.
Once through Welch we found where 16 turned off to our left. Right in the middle of a very blind corner! I peered as far ahead as I could, then scooted quickly across 52 and onto 16.
About 30 yards or so after getting on 16 we were greeted with an extremely tight downhill left hand turn, followed by an uphill right hander about 20 yards after that. This set the tone for the majority of that road as it wound its way through two states and a little over 100 miles. Of course there were places where it would straighten out into a typical two lane back road and it did wind its way through several wide spots and small (very small) towns, but in my estimation the majority of it was your sterotypical mountain road. For the most part it reminded me very much of "The Dragon" (US 129 near Deals Gap, NC for those not familiar with it). Maybe not quite as intense in the same mileage span as the dragon, but as I mentioned it went on for miles and miles. I'd give it an 8 on the fun meter and an 8 for overall road surface. Besides, it has a good beat and you can dance to it. ;)
We had a now funny experience in one of those little ex coal towns named "War, WV.". The road turned to the right, crossed the ever present set of rail road tracks and dropped down a small hill into town. A sign at the edge of town told us that the annual "War Fall Festival" was taking place that very day.
As we cruised into town we noticed a few small EZ up type canopy's set up with knick knacks underneath, another with a DJ set up blasting country music, and about a dozen or so people milling around. At onepoint I noticed a couple of women sitting on bench in front of an empty store front. As we eased up towards them they leaned forward and smiled, looking like the parade was coming! A few feet later a man literally walked out into the road on our left smiling at us! I was unsure if he was coming to meet us or simply crossing the street but I eased on by him waving and nodding as I passed. In the next moment a rather large dog came up from our right with a mischievous look in his eyes.
To be honest, I saw him coming. I wasn't sure however if he was going to just take few steps out or do the 'dog chasing a motorcycle thing'. My wife on the other hand, was still focused on the man to our left. The dog made up his mind to be a dog and lept forward at us while barking like his life depended on it. I swerved to my left and goosed the throttle at the same instance. As I said, my poor darling bride never saw any of this coming and it scared the dickens out ofher. Her response was to scream like her life depended on it, right into her intercom microphone. Which relayed and amplified this blood curdling yelp into my helmet speakers that coincidentally are directly beside my ears.
I swear my eyes crossed.
I thought I felt blood running from my ears but thankfully I was mistaken.
We missed the dog, and the man, then pulled over a block later at a convenience store. I told Julie we should fuel up in case there weren't any other gas stops ahead, but really I needed to get my eyes straightened back up.
The gas pumps weren't the pay at the pump type (imagine that) so Julie went in to pay for the fuel while I pumped it into the tank. She had an interesting tale when she returned! It seems that the man inside was a friendly feller and he was telling her that we really should have been there yesterday. It seems there were twice as many people there (!) and old so and so SHOT old such and such "deader'n hell".
Now you would think that this tid bit of news coupled with our recent experience would motivate wifey pooh to hurry up and get the heck out of Dodge. But nooooo. She spotted a general/drug store right next door and needed to get a birthday card for some damn body!
I think she really needed a restroom, but that's just my opinion.
We left, rather hurriedly as soon as she returned.
It dawned on me a little while later that those two women probably knew what that damn dog was going to do, and may have even put him up to it!
The rest of the trip went comparatively uneventful, thankfully, but was still a hoot none the less. We did stop for ice cream at a neat little place on the outskirts of Marion, Va. which sort of made up for the'fun' we had in War.
16 turned into 58 a few miles down the road, and 58 merged into 93 after that. We followed 93 into Sparta, NC. then picked up 21 and did our normal 21 to 901 to 64 ride back to the house.
Pulling the Nomad into the basement/workshop at 8:00 pm sharp, I flipped over to the trip meter and saw that it read 409.1 miles.
What a great day and a great ride.
Bruce
Sunday morning rolled around and as usual we, or more specifically, I was slow to get up and moving so it was almost 10:00 before we finally got out and on to the road and rolling. I asked my lovely wife Julie over the intercom where she wanted to go and she told me that it really didn't matter, she too just wanted to ride. In the back of my mind I was thinking about heading to West Virginia but figured it was too far away and we were leaving too late in the day for that kind of trip.
I headed up US 52 out of Lexington figuring on going due north for a bit and just see what developed. Somewhere along the way a thought came to mind. Just ride 52 north until we ran low on fuel, then go from there. That line of thought led me to calculate in my mind about where that would be, which I figured to be somewhere north of Fancy Gap, Va. But we had been up that way recently and I was itching for something new, or at least different.
By now we were north of Winston-Salem, still running at highway speeds up US 52. The bike was, as always, running great, traffic was light and the feeling of making time and getting up the road was intoxicating. So I recalculated our re-fuel point if we took theI-74 cut off over to I-77 and kept going north and came up with Wythville, Va or somewhere there abouts.
Merging onto I-74 without so much as letting out of the throttle we headed west bound. A few miles later and we were at the intersection of 74 & 77. We merged onto 77 north and we headed up the mountain. As a rule 4 lanes and interstates aren't our thing, but today seemed different. The bike really seemed to be enjoying stretching it's legs.
The view along the section of I-77 that the truckers refer to as Fancy Gap grade is always spectacular and with traffic still being light I was able to enjoy it. As we got near the top of the mountain I asked Julie if she wanted to head over to the Blue Ridge Parkway or keep going north. "Keep going north." Apparently she was digging it too. I told her I'd been thinking about going to WV just about the time a road sign came into view showing Bluefield was 70 some odd miles away. She said that lunch in Bluefield sounded like agood idea.
We arrived in Bluefield a short time later and found a fast food place to stop for lunch. I brought a map in with us and while we ate we discussed the rest of the trip.
After lunch we headed north on US 52, heading towards the town of Welch and highway 16 a little over 30 miles away. 52 through that part of WV is a two lane black top, traveling through small towns and burgs that appear to be very old and for the most part in pretty bad shape. Many vacant buildings and at least one or more burned out building or home in each community. The road itself is in good shape, but as you wind your way through the towns it seems very...narrow. The buildings and homes are all close to the roadway, as is the ever present railroad and creek.
Once through Welch we found where 16 turned off to our left. Right in the middle of a very blind corner! I peered as far ahead as I could, then scooted quickly across 52 and onto 16.
About 30 yards or so after getting on 16 we were greeted with an extremely tight downhill left hand turn, followed by an uphill right hander about 20 yards after that. This set the tone for the majority of that road as it wound its way through two states and a little over 100 miles. Of course there were places where it would straighten out into a typical two lane back road and it did wind its way through several wide spots and small (very small) towns, but in my estimation the majority of it was your sterotypical mountain road. For the most part it reminded me very much of "The Dragon" (US 129 near Deals Gap, NC for those not familiar with it). Maybe not quite as intense in the same mileage span as the dragon, but as I mentioned it went on for miles and miles. I'd give it an 8 on the fun meter and an 8 for overall road surface. Besides, it has a good beat and you can dance to it. ;)
We had a now funny experience in one of those little ex coal towns named "War, WV.". The road turned to the right, crossed the ever present set of rail road tracks and dropped down a small hill into town. A sign at the edge of town told us that the annual "War Fall Festival" was taking place that very day.
As we cruised into town we noticed a few small EZ up type canopy's set up with knick knacks underneath, another with a DJ set up blasting country music, and about a dozen or so people milling around. At onepoint I noticed a couple of women sitting on bench in front of an empty store front. As we eased up towards them they leaned forward and smiled, looking like the parade was coming! A few feet later a man literally walked out into the road on our left smiling at us! I was unsure if he was coming to meet us or simply crossing the street but I eased on by him waving and nodding as I passed. In the next moment a rather large dog came up from our right with a mischievous look in his eyes.
To be honest, I saw him coming. I wasn't sure however if he was going to just take few steps out or do the 'dog chasing a motorcycle thing'. My wife on the other hand, was still focused on the man to our left. The dog made up his mind to be a dog and lept forward at us while barking like his life depended on it. I swerved to my left and goosed the throttle at the same instance. As I said, my poor darling bride never saw any of this coming and it scared the dickens out ofher. Her response was to scream like her life depended on it, right into her intercom microphone. Which relayed and amplified this blood curdling yelp into my helmet speakers that coincidentally are directly beside my ears.
I swear my eyes crossed.
I thought I felt blood running from my ears but thankfully I was mistaken.
We missed the dog, and the man, then pulled over a block later at a convenience store. I told Julie we should fuel up in case there weren't any other gas stops ahead, but really I needed to get my eyes straightened back up.
The gas pumps weren't the pay at the pump type (imagine that) so Julie went in to pay for the fuel while I pumped it into the tank. She had an interesting tale when she returned! It seems that the man inside was a friendly feller and he was telling her that we really should have been there yesterday. It seems there were twice as many people there (!) and old so and so SHOT old such and such "deader'n hell".
Now you would think that this tid bit of news coupled with our recent experience would motivate wifey pooh to hurry up and get the heck out of Dodge. But nooooo. She spotted a general/drug store right next door and needed to get a birthday card for some damn body!
I think she really needed a restroom, but that's just my opinion.
We left, rather hurriedly as soon as she returned.
It dawned on me a little while later that those two women probably knew what that damn dog was going to do, and may have even put him up to it!
The rest of the trip went comparatively uneventful, thankfully, but was still a hoot none the less. We did stop for ice cream at a neat little place on the outskirts of Marion, Va. which sort of made up for the'fun' we had in War.
16 turned into 58 a few miles down the road, and 58 merged into 93 after that. We followed 93 into Sparta, NC. then picked up 21 and did our normal 21 to 901 to 64 ride back to the house.
Pulling the Nomad into the basement/workshop at 8:00 pm sharp, I flipped over to the trip meter and saw that it read 409.1 miles.
What a great day and a great ride.
Bruce
August 2007 - The Kids Make a Road Trip and Run The Gap
Parked Outside the Wheels Through Time Museum in Maggie Valley, North Carolina.As much off road riding as our family has done together up until this point we had never really done any street riding together. By this time Julie and I had gotten to the point that we had done a good deal of on road riding and were enjoying it tremendously. Naturally we wanted to share that with Bryan and let him experience it and see if he would enjoy it all. Obviously Bryan was game, and invited his sweetie, Jordan, to go along with us.
We made arrangements to borrow a motorcycle and then
worked out the logistics for the trip. Bryan really wanted to ride U.S. 129 and see The Dragon, which was fine with us. That way we could also show the kids some of the other great riding and beautiful sights that are in that area.
We would leave on Saturday morning, ride the back roads west and taking in the sights, ending up in Robbinsville, North Carolina and then stay the night. Then we'd get up early Sunday and ride until dark being sure to at least ride the Cherohala and the Dragon that day. Get up Monday and then take a leisurely ride home.
We had booked the 'Vacation Condo' at The Two Wheel Inn http://www.twowheelinn.com/ in Robbinsville and would use it as a base camp. This way we could leave the extra luggage at the room and only carry what we needed during the day, plus we wouldn't have to search for a room each night.
Saturday didn't go as well as we'd hoped. It was very hot that day and the route we'd chosen was one we'd never been on before. It ended up being a slow moving grind with lots of stop lights in many little towns. Before we'd made it to the mountains both the kids had gotten so hot they weren't feeling well. They troopered on after a brief cool off stop to Maggie Valley where were planning to visit the Wheels Through time Museum.
The parking lot at the museum was shady and cool and every one's spirits were lifting. Then we went in the museum and found that either the place wasn't air conditioned or it wasn't working. The place was stifling.
After a little while we were all miserable and decided to leave and find a cool spot. We found a little restaurant that looked neat and went in.
It had no air conditioning either. But at least it was breezy. We ate and then hung out on the porch that was out front, continuing on after everyone felt more like riding again.
My pal Billy offered to let us use his VTX1300 for the kids to ride. Thanks a bunch Billy!!!We've managed to 'collect' some motorcycle specific luggage in the last few years so we had enough for everyone to use on both bikes. Julie and I used a T-bag and the hard bags on the Nomad. Jordan and Bryan used a set of Dowco Iron Rider bags that are designed to stack and be used as a unit. As the VTX didn't have saddlebags the kids had to stuff everything in the Dowco bags and pile them up on the luggage rack of the bike. The stack of bags were so high that Jordan could barely been seen from the rear sitting on the bike!
At the top of the falls.We took the kids to see the Bald River Falls near the end of the Cherohala Skyway. We rode into Telico Plains, Tennessee for lunch, then went on up through Tennessee, then back over to North Carolina and made our first trip down The Dragon.
I love this picture. Bryan is focused on coaxing the VTX through the turn, Jordan is obviously relaxed, holding the camera and looking off in the other direction. Too cool. Jordan is a rider!
Bryan, Jordan, Julie and Bruce at the Resort.After running The Dragon we stopped at Deals Gap, got some grub, bought some shirts, hung out, checked out bikes and took some pictures.
We left here and rode down "Hellbinder" or U.S. 28 all the way to Franklinville, North Carolina. From there we followed some local routes back to Robbinsville and back to the motel.
The next day we headed home, the long way. We made a run north on 129 up to the Foothill Parkway, then toured around the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. We crossed the mountain on U.S. 421 and then headed towards U.S. 64. We went through Cherokee and Lake Lure and had an enjoyable day and ride.
After a few stops we made it home before dark. I don't remember the total mileage, a little over 1000 I think, but we had a ball!
Bruce
June 2007 - Solo Ride to Florida
I call this a trip report as opposed to a ride report because I was actually on a road trip with a definite destination, instead of just being out and about as my wife and I usually are.
Whoppie flippin' do, right? ;)
Anyway... The trip began on Wednesday, June 20th at roughly 7:30 am. For yearsI have told folks that I had a rule that I'd ride in the rain, but I won't leave in the rain. Well, I broke that one. As I rolled theNomad out of my basement workshop the sky look ominous and a few heavy drops hit the fuel tank. Heading to the local BP station to top off with Amoco's best it began to mist a little.
Damn.
After topping off the tank I went ahead and suited up in my rain gear facing the inevitable. I was going to get wet. "Well", I thought. "Maybe it won't last too long… "Ha!
I had decided that I wanted to take U.S. 301 down into Florida, then follow U.S. 27 on into Clewiston. The hitch was how to get to 301. There are numerous ways through the `woods' as I like to say to getto it, but most of those back roads appeared to be taking me way out of the way. However, in eyeballing the map it appeared that if I took I-85 to Charlotte, then I-77 to Columbia, then picked up U.S.321 and followed it to 301 I'd be going in almost a straight line due south.
"Why not?" I mused.
Oh lawdy, what a mistake.
85 in the rain wasn't too bad. Traffic was flowing pretty well and the road surface was OK. But some where along NC 49 intersection it was all stop. Then moved s-l-o-w-l-y until just a bit before the 77/85 intersection.
If I had a nickel for each of the strange looks I got…
Merging onto 77 seemed easy enough as I rounded that sharp left turn, then it bottle necked, and STOPPED. RIGHT NOW. That was when I heard the horrifying sound of tires locked up and squalling against the pavement. My fellow southerners will understand when I say I drawed up waiting for the impact. But there was none. I looked around for someone with that just messed up their pants look, but didn't see anyone, so I focused back in on the job at hand.
I was in the left hand lane, which meant I had to merge over two lanes to get onto the highway. 77 was basically a slow moving parking lot and no one seemed to be interested in letting anyone from the merge lane in. Just as I was cussing myself for my bone head decision to take this route a NC Highway Motor Patrolman on a BMWcame up beside me on the shoulder and motioned for me to follow him!
Hot damn! An escort! The Trooper then turned on his flashing blue lights and blipped the siren a time or two and it was almost like Moses parting the Red Sea. No, no one magically moved out of the way to let us by, but they damn sure all turned and looked, then held still while we eased by on the shoulder and then onto the roadway itself! Shortly we came up on an accident scene, which was no doubt where the Trooper was going anyway. As he pulled off he waved at me again as I went by. How cool was that? With the exception of one Yuppie in a Lexus on a cell phone almost joining me in my lane the rest of the ride down 77 was uneventful. Even so, it was nerve racking as heck and something I don't ever plan on doing again.
It was raining even harder as I pulled into the first rest area on 77 there about mile marker 65. Traffic was fairly light by this point, but I was miserably wet and the skys didn't look any better ahead. I stopped to call my wife and get her to go on line and get a radar view of the area so I could try and determine what was ahead of me. To be honest I was considering turning around and going back to get my car! Lovely Wife Julie had some slightly encouraging news in that it appeared to her that I would run out of the rain soon and then there was only a chance that I would get in more south of Orangeburg. Spirits lifted slightly and with the knowledge that if I turned around I'd never live it down, I soldiered on.
Her forecast was partially right, as within a few miles the rain stopped. The sun didn't come out, and the skys were gray, but at least it wasn't raining. It also wasn't long before I saw in my mirror to see three lights coming at me. A large one in the center and two smaller ones to either side. The unmistakable look of a motorcycle with a light bar. The bike eased by me, going about 5 mph faster. As the rider passed he gave me the thumbs up sign (Hey look! Another idiot riding in the rain!) and then motioned for me to `come on'. I fell out behind him and into `formation'. We rode that way all the way into Columbia, and trust me when I say we weren't letting any grass grow under us either. Sadly, he jumped offon I-20 west bound and I continued on, heading for 321.
I stopped for fuel almost immediately after getting on 321, and while pumping the liquid gold the bottom fell out. Again. It rained on me, more or less (mostly more) the rest of the day. At times it was brutal. At times it was almost nothing. But the road was wet and required my full attention at all times. U.S. 301 came up quickly enough, and happily was a good road. Not heavily traveled, in goodshape, and easy to make time on.
A couple of things I feel are worth noting. It was obvious that before the interstates were built U.S. 301 was a main north/south artery. Scattered along the route was a gaggle of old style `motor lodges' and restaurants. A few still hanging on and in business, but showing their age. Others just dilapidated shells, a sad testimony to days gone by. The other thing worth mentioning is the Georgia Welcome station at the GA/SC state line. What a cool place! I needed to stop about then to change into some dry socks and take abreak. The nice lady running the place was great, offering the use of the employee bathroom if I wanted to change clothes and to make a motel reservation down the road. She new how far it was to the state line, and the names of some good restaurants along the way. Very refreshing. She even gave me a free soft drink and offered up somefree Georgia peanuts. I left feeling good and momentarily dry.
As darkness loomed I began to try to determine where I'd stop for the night. I wasn't far from Ocala, Florida by now and that seemed like as good a place as any. I had logged 535 miles that day and roughly450 of it was in the rain. Not bad. A Travel Lodge motel appeared ahead of me, so I pulled in and asked about a room. In short order I was in a hot shower and then dry clothes. Shortly after that I had my belly full and was looking forward to a nap. Unfortunately I had only two pair of dry socks left and my boots were soaked. I spent several hours using an iron and a blow dryer trying to dry out my stuff so that they would at least be reasonably dry in the morning.
I was up early, not sleeping very well for some reason. Still keyed up about the rest of the trip I suppose. I went ahead and covered my T-bag in case of rain, but didn't suit up right away. I rode a short distance to a little place called Lady Lake, Florida where I stopped for a while to visit my sister and her husband who were visiting his mother. They would be joining me later in Clewiston so I stayed only a short while, then continued on.
Everything went well until I got to Avon Park, Florida where, you guessed it, the bottom fell out, again. I managed to get my rain gear on just as the rain caught me. But it was your typical Florida `sun shower' in which it rains like nobodies business for about 15 minutes, then the sun comes out. This happened three more times before I got to my destination.
As I have mentioned, I grew up in this little town I was headed to, and know the area intimately. Clewiston is a small town that is spilt right down the middle by U.S. 27. About 9 miles north of town there is a turn and intersection where S.R. 80 splits off from 27 continuing on towards Ft. Myers. The turn is a fairly tight (by highway standards) and has a good degree of banking to it as it was designed to accommodate traffic running at 70 mph. Going south on 27 it is a left turn and makes me think of going into turn 1 at Daytona, especially on a motorcycle. The relatively high degree of banking combined with the highway speed makes you just want to lay into the turn and wick the throttle. Unfortunately the geniuses that designed this intersection/turn have the traffic continuing on S.R. 80 exit off to the left on the north bound side of 27, crossing over and climbing the banking of the south bound side. However, the degree of the turn, combined with the banking makes it hard to see traffic coming south bound, especially a motorcycle. Then, to add insult to injury (literally) the traffic coming off 80 and wanting to go north on 27 have to cross the south bound lane at the exact same point,then merge into the fast lane on 27. We have always called this turn "The Monster" and I have had several friends killed or injured in this spot over the years.
I was dreading this one turn for 200 miles.
As I came up to the turn running about 65 mph looking ahead (like all good riders do) I noticed a pick up coming north getting into the turn lane for S.R. 80, AND an SUV poising itself off 80 wanting to go north on 27. It's probably been 5 years or more since I've been on this road, and over 30 years on a bike, and here I was heading right into the jaws of the monster. I backed off, got ready to brake and kept my eyes on both vehicles, yet the turn is sharp enough and banked enough that you have to watch your position in the turn as well. To be honest, I don't know what I would have done besides crash if the vehicles would have moved. If I would have turned left down the banking I would have been in the median immediately and in a situation like you see the NASCAR boys getting into when they come off the banking onto the apron of the turn. If I would have turned right I would have headed up the banking and launched off the turn like Fireball Roberts did many years ago at Daytona, and into a sugarcane field. Fortunately everybody held still and I just rode through the turn.
It was still early when I got checked into my motel room, so I showered and watched some TV. A little later I walked down to the restaurant and lounge, had a burger and a couple of tall cool ones, then crashed by 8:30.
The visit went well and we all had a good time being with each other and taking in the local sights. Sunday morning came around to soon and I had to head back for home.
The easiest thing to do was to go back the way I came, so that's what I more or less did. I did take a couple of detours to see some places that I hadn't seen in a while, adding about 30 miles to the overall trip.
Surprisingly it didn't rain a drop on me the whole way back. The first day I rode 500 miles to Statesboro, Ga., then got up the next day and rode on in. This time though, I got on U.S. 601 north of Orangeburg and rode it all the way to well north of Charlotte where it intersects I-85. The only `interesting' things that occurred being when I came up on the end results of a high speed chase between a suspect and local Sheriffs deputies, and on a section of four lane when an old man was coming south on the north bound side. Both of these incidents happened with enough line of sight and warning (thanks to my CB radio on the bike) that I was able to react well ahead of time and were no real big deal.
All in all it was a great trip, and one I would do again. In fact, it wet my whistle for more `distance rides'. I think I'm now at a point where when I have a trip to make I'm going to have to be shown why I can't take my bike, instead of just thinking it might be fun to take it.
Bruce
Whoppie flippin' do, right? ;)
Anyway... The trip began on Wednesday, June 20th at roughly 7:30 am. For yearsI have told folks that I had a rule that I'd ride in the rain, but I won't leave in the rain. Well, I broke that one. As I rolled theNomad out of my basement workshop the sky look ominous and a few heavy drops hit the fuel tank. Heading to the local BP station to top off with Amoco's best it began to mist a little.
Damn.
After topping off the tank I went ahead and suited up in my rain gear facing the inevitable. I was going to get wet. "Well", I thought. "Maybe it won't last too long… "Ha!
I had decided that I wanted to take U.S. 301 down into Florida, then follow U.S. 27 on into Clewiston. The hitch was how to get to 301. There are numerous ways through the `woods' as I like to say to getto it, but most of those back roads appeared to be taking me way out of the way. However, in eyeballing the map it appeared that if I took I-85 to Charlotte, then I-77 to Columbia, then picked up U.S.321 and followed it to 301 I'd be going in almost a straight line due south.
"Why not?" I mused.
Oh lawdy, what a mistake.
85 in the rain wasn't too bad. Traffic was flowing pretty well and the road surface was OK. But some where along NC 49 intersection it was all stop. Then moved s-l-o-w-l-y until just a bit before the 77/85 intersection.
If I had a nickel for each of the strange looks I got…
Merging onto 77 seemed easy enough as I rounded that sharp left turn, then it bottle necked, and STOPPED. RIGHT NOW. That was when I heard the horrifying sound of tires locked up and squalling against the pavement. My fellow southerners will understand when I say I drawed up waiting for the impact. But there was none. I looked around for someone with that just messed up their pants look, but didn't see anyone, so I focused back in on the job at hand.
I was in the left hand lane, which meant I had to merge over two lanes to get onto the highway. 77 was basically a slow moving parking lot and no one seemed to be interested in letting anyone from the merge lane in. Just as I was cussing myself for my bone head decision to take this route a NC Highway Motor Patrolman on a BMWcame up beside me on the shoulder and motioned for me to follow him!
Hot damn! An escort! The Trooper then turned on his flashing blue lights and blipped the siren a time or two and it was almost like Moses parting the Red Sea. No, no one magically moved out of the way to let us by, but they damn sure all turned and looked, then held still while we eased by on the shoulder and then onto the roadway itself! Shortly we came up on an accident scene, which was no doubt where the Trooper was going anyway. As he pulled off he waved at me again as I went by. How cool was that? With the exception of one Yuppie in a Lexus on a cell phone almost joining me in my lane the rest of the ride down 77 was uneventful. Even so, it was nerve racking as heck and something I don't ever plan on doing again.
It was raining even harder as I pulled into the first rest area on 77 there about mile marker 65. Traffic was fairly light by this point, but I was miserably wet and the skys didn't look any better ahead. I stopped to call my wife and get her to go on line and get a radar view of the area so I could try and determine what was ahead of me. To be honest I was considering turning around and going back to get my car! Lovely Wife Julie had some slightly encouraging news in that it appeared to her that I would run out of the rain soon and then there was only a chance that I would get in more south of Orangeburg. Spirits lifted slightly and with the knowledge that if I turned around I'd never live it down, I soldiered on.
Her forecast was partially right, as within a few miles the rain stopped. The sun didn't come out, and the skys were gray, but at least it wasn't raining. It also wasn't long before I saw in my mirror to see three lights coming at me. A large one in the center and two smaller ones to either side. The unmistakable look of a motorcycle with a light bar. The bike eased by me, going about 5 mph faster. As the rider passed he gave me the thumbs up sign (Hey look! Another idiot riding in the rain!) and then motioned for me to `come on'. I fell out behind him and into `formation'. We rode that way all the way into Columbia, and trust me when I say we weren't letting any grass grow under us either. Sadly, he jumped offon I-20 west bound and I continued on, heading for 321.
I stopped for fuel almost immediately after getting on 321, and while pumping the liquid gold the bottom fell out. Again. It rained on me, more or less (mostly more) the rest of the day. At times it was brutal. At times it was almost nothing. But the road was wet and required my full attention at all times. U.S. 301 came up quickly enough, and happily was a good road. Not heavily traveled, in goodshape, and easy to make time on.
A couple of things I feel are worth noting. It was obvious that before the interstates were built U.S. 301 was a main north/south artery. Scattered along the route was a gaggle of old style `motor lodges' and restaurants. A few still hanging on and in business, but showing their age. Others just dilapidated shells, a sad testimony to days gone by. The other thing worth mentioning is the Georgia Welcome station at the GA/SC state line. What a cool place! I needed to stop about then to change into some dry socks and take abreak. The nice lady running the place was great, offering the use of the employee bathroom if I wanted to change clothes and to make a motel reservation down the road. She new how far it was to the state line, and the names of some good restaurants along the way. Very refreshing. She even gave me a free soft drink and offered up somefree Georgia peanuts. I left feeling good and momentarily dry.
As darkness loomed I began to try to determine where I'd stop for the night. I wasn't far from Ocala, Florida by now and that seemed like as good a place as any. I had logged 535 miles that day and roughly450 of it was in the rain. Not bad. A Travel Lodge motel appeared ahead of me, so I pulled in and asked about a room. In short order I was in a hot shower and then dry clothes. Shortly after that I had my belly full and was looking forward to a nap. Unfortunately I had only two pair of dry socks left and my boots were soaked. I spent several hours using an iron and a blow dryer trying to dry out my stuff so that they would at least be reasonably dry in the morning.
I was up early, not sleeping very well for some reason. Still keyed up about the rest of the trip I suppose. I went ahead and covered my T-bag in case of rain, but didn't suit up right away. I rode a short distance to a little place called Lady Lake, Florida where I stopped for a while to visit my sister and her husband who were visiting his mother. They would be joining me later in Clewiston so I stayed only a short while, then continued on.
Everything went well until I got to Avon Park, Florida where, you guessed it, the bottom fell out, again. I managed to get my rain gear on just as the rain caught me. But it was your typical Florida `sun shower' in which it rains like nobodies business for about 15 minutes, then the sun comes out. This happened three more times before I got to my destination.
As I have mentioned, I grew up in this little town I was headed to, and know the area intimately. Clewiston is a small town that is spilt right down the middle by U.S. 27. About 9 miles north of town there is a turn and intersection where S.R. 80 splits off from 27 continuing on towards Ft. Myers. The turn is a fairly tight (by highway standards) and has a good degree of banking to it as it was designed to accommodate traffic running at 70 mph. Going south on 27 it is a left turn and makes me think of going into turn 1 at Daytona, especially on a motorcycle. The relatively high degree of banking combined with the highway speed makes you just want to lay into the turn and wick the throttle. Unfortunately the geniuses that designed this intersection/turn have the traffic continuing on S.R. 80 exit off to the left on the north bound side of 27, crossing over and climbing the banking of the south bound side. However, the degree of the turn, combined with the banking makes it hard to see traffic coming south bound, especially a motorcycle. Then, to add insult to injury (literally) the traffic coming off 80 and wanting to go north on 27 have to cross the south bound lane at the exact same point,then merge into the fast lane on 27. We have always called this turn "The Monster" and I have had several friends killed or injured in this spot over the years.
I was dreading this one turn for 200 miles.
As I came up to the turn running about 65 mph looking ahead (like all good riders do) I noticed a pick up coming north getting into the turn lane for S.R. 80, AND an SUV poising itself off 80 wanting to go north on 27. It's probably been 5 years or more since I've been on this road, and over 30 years on a bike, and here I was heading right into the jaws of the monster. I backed off, got ready to brake and kept my eyes on both vehicles, yet the turn is sharp enough and banked enough that you have to watch your position in the turn as well. To be honest, I don't know what I would have done besides crash if the vehicles would have moved. If I would have turned left down the banking I would have been in the median immediately and in a situation like you see the NASCAR boys getting into when they come off the banking onto the apron of the turn. If I would have turned right I would have headed up the banking and launched off the turn like Fireball Roberts did many years ago at Daytona, and into a sugarcane field. Fortunately everybody held still and I just rode through the turn.
It was still early when I got checked into my motel room, so I showered and watched some TV. A little later I walked down to the restaurant and lounge, had a burger and a couple of tall cool ones, then crashed by 8:30.
The visit went well and we all had a good time being with each other and taking in the local sights. Sunday morning came around to soon and I had to head back for home.
The easiest thing to do was to go back the way I came, so that's what I more or less did. I did take a couple of detours to see some places that I hadn't seen in a while, adding about 30 miles to the overall trip.
Surprisingly it didn't rain a drop on me the whole way back. The first day I rode 500 miles to Statesboro, Ga., then got up the next day and rode on in. This time though, I got on U.S. 601 north of Orangeburg and rode it all the way to well north of Charlotte where it intersects I-85. The only `interesting' things that occurred being when I came up on the end results of a high speed chase between a suspect and local Sheriffs deputies, and on a section of four lane when an old man was coming south on the north bound side. Both of these incidents happened with enough line of sight and warning (thanks to my CB radio on the bike) that I was able to react well ahead of time and were no real big deal.
All in all it was a great trip, and one I would do again. In fact, it wet my whistle for more `distance rides'. I think I'm now at a point where when I have a trip to make I'm going to have to be shown why I can't take my bike, instead of just thinking it might be fun to take it.
Bruce
March 2007 - First Ride of 2007
My lovely wife Julie and I took the Nomad out for thefirst ride of our '07 season. A short ride, but a ride none the less.
We had family from out of town last week-end, and will again this coming one as well. But there are several things that need to be done around the house before the next group of in-laws come around.
The first spring mowing of yard onions was today,which due to one of those infernal inventions of man called a 'lawn mower' meant it was after 2:00 pm before we could get the Kaw out of our basement/workshop.
Only having a few hours to ride we decided to stay some what close to home, and make a loop around the surrounding counties.
The first stop was Morrow Mountain State Park close to Albemarle, NC. Always a beautiful ride, today was no exception. The weather was perfect, low 80's and sunny, but the leaves and color has only just begun. It looked more like winter on the mountain with all the bare trees and brown dead foliage on the ground. There must have been 200 or more bikes on the loop around the top of the park! Everything from cruisers to tourers to sport bikes to scooters were seen parked or riding the park loop.
From there we went to a local hang out called "Cripple Creek" for a late lunch. http://www.cripplecreekroadhousegrill.com/map.html
"The Creek", as usual was crowded with bikes and riders. We both had cheeseburgers and a cold beverage (Cool your jets ;) iced tea and a diet coke), then rode off in search of the sunset.
It didn't take long... We just eased around the back roads on the southern side of Davidson county and vicinity, both of us just wishing for more time and looking forward to future rides this year. Closed out the day with 150 miles for the afternoon. One of those short 'teaser' rides, but a good one.
We'll take it.
Bruce
We had family from out of town last week-end, and will again this coming one as well. But there are several things that need to be done around the house before the next group of in-laws come around.
The first spring mowing of yard onions was today,which due to one of those infernal inventions of man called a 'lawn mower' meant it was after 2:00 pm before we could get the Kaw out of our basement/workshop.
Only having a few hours to ride we decided to stay some what close to home, and make a loop around the surrounding counties.
The first stop was Morrow Mountain State Park close to Albemarle, NC. Always a beautiful ride, today was no exception. The weather was perfect, low 80's and sunny, but the leaves and color has only just begun. It looked more like winter on the mountain with all the bare trees and brown dead foliage on the ground. There must have been 200 or more bikes on the loop around the top of the park! Everything from cruisers to tourers to sport bikes to scooters were seen parked or riding the park loop.
From there we went to a local hang out called "Cripple Creek" for a late lunch. http://www.cripplecreekroadhousegrill.com/map.html
"The Creek", as usual was crowded with bikes and riders. We both had cheeseburgers and a cold beverage (Cool your jets ;) iced tea and a diet coke), then rode off in search of the sunset.
It didn't take long... We just eased around the back roads on the southern side of Davidson county and vicinity, both of us just wishing for more time and looking forward to future rides this year. Closed out the day with 150 miles for the afternoon. One of those short 'teaser' rides, but a good one.
We'll take it.
Bruce
November 2006 - Fall Trip Through Tennessee and North Carolina
The Nomad loaded up for a road trip.As is usual for our three day week-end trips we left the house after I got home from work on Saturday. We rode pretty much straight trough to Johnson City, Tennessee arriving well after dark that night. A rain storm was just ahead of us coming into Johnson City, we didn't get rained on but the road spray got us a little damp. After checking into a room for the night we went out for a nice meal and a couple of cold ones. Returning to the room and then turning in for the night.
The next day we got up early and headed out. Our ultimate goal being Pigeon Forge. A do-able ride, but as usual we would be taking the back roads as much as possible. We were sight seeing, but had a few miles to cover too.
One of the roads we had chosen to south in Tennessee was a typical skinny bitty two lane that followed the foot hills winding over and around them.
I missed a turn off along the way and we actually found the end of a state road. As we rode along the road just simply stopped right beside someones house.
Imagine that. It just quick being a road.
As we worked our way back we ran up on a... flock? Of Turkeys. They were just walking along the road taking it all up. I slowed and stopped well short of them, honking the horn and revving the engine.
Nothing.
They finally found the path they were looking for and all of them slowly walked off the road and up a hill. Once the last one had cleared we went on our way.
Finding our way back where we were supposed to be finally we headed south trying to make a little time. We never were really able to get the camera out and take any pictures until the end of the day outside of Gatlinburg.
Gatlinburg, Tennessee.Neither of us had ever been to Gatlinburg so we decided to go through town instead of taking the by pass. Big mistake. Too much traffic, too much congestion.
Beautiful view here though.
"BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR" "C'mon, let's go on and get this over with. I'm COLD!!"It was a brisk 38 degrees when we left the motel that morning, only promising to get colder instead of warmer.
We stopped at an overlook on the Foothills Parkway to warm up, look around and take a few photos the next morning after leaving Pigeon Forge.It was getting colder the further we rode and we were both already cold. This was going to be... interesting.
The Tree of Shame at the Deals Gap Motorcycle Resort.We spent a little while at Deals Gap taking time to warm up and take a few pics. It had gotten pretty cold on the top of the mountain and on the way down 129.
At times Julie actually took her gloves off and video taped our run south from the Foothills Parkway into Deals Gap. She took some great video and when you consider she had to be close to getting frostbitten doing it makes it even more amazing.
We took a direct route home from here, but had to stop several times to warm up and thaw out! It was a little after dark when we got back home, seems like we rode around 600 miles or so over the week-end.
Another great 'leaf peepin' trip to the western North Carolina.
Bruce
August 2006 - The Ride to The Trace
After making several overnight and three day week-end trips we wanted to try our first long trip. In the months leading up to the trip we decided we wanted to run The Trace.The idea was to leave in the afternoon once I left work, and make a bee line trip across I-40 from our central North Carolina home to the western North Carolina mountains before dark. We would spend the night on the edge of the North Carolina and Tennesee state line so that we'd have a good start on our trip.
From there we would head for Nashville and the start of The Trace. We'd get there when we got there.
Once on The Trace we promised ourselves not to get in a hurry and just be real tourist. Take our time, take lots of pictures and enjoy ourselves. After reaching the end of the parkway having seen what we wanted to see, we would take a look at how much time and available funds we had and then decide what to do. We had a rough idea of how we might head back north and east, but we'd play it by ear.
The trip was a real memory maker. We enjoyed ourselves, and had fun, safe trip, what more could we ask for?
We had heard about a side road off the Cherohala Skyway that led beside a river and up to a waterfall. Seeing what we thought was it, we turned and started up this rough little small paved road beside this. "Must be it." we thought and headed down it.
We found this rock at a wide spot on the road leading to the falls. Julie decided she wanted to go out and sit down on it for bit.
The Bald River Falls, located near the end of the Cherohala Skyway outside of Telico Plains, Tennessee.
We made it! Entering the Natchez Trace outside of Nashville, Tennessee. Our destination, Natchez Mississippi, 445 miles south.
We had decided we would spend the better part of a day around Tupelo, Mississippi. Julie wanted to see Elvis' birthplace and I wanted to see a civil war battlefield. Fair enough.
We started with Elvis.
Julie at the home where Elvis was born.Photos weren't allowed inside the museum so these are all we have of it.
Outside of Tupelo, Mississippi.There was a driving tour on the road leading up to this, the site of the main battle. Along the way were pull offs with markers that marked a time line of the battle noting points at which smaller battles, troop movements and placements leading up to the main battle.
As you might imagine the Trace has several points of interest relating to the War Between the States all along its route and we stopped at most of them. Both of us finding them interesting and informative.
Because of this we have began looking for other civil and revolutionary war historical parks and memorials that we can ride to on day and week-end trips.
A civil war cannon marks the spot where a southern gun crew led by a 17 year old confederate solider held the southern lines and helped to turn back the Yankee oppressors. *eg*
A home and farm that has been located in the same spot beside the Old Trace sense prior to the Civil War.
This was a bed and breakfast Natchez Trace style in the 1800's. It marked the end of a typical first days travel for those leaving Natchez for Nashville. It was about a 20 mile journey for them, a short ride out for some lunch for us.I tell people that one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me happened at a Sonic restaurant in Natchez, Mississippi at lunch one day.
We rode to the end of the Trace and found a place to top of with fuel and then a bite to eat at the drive in next door. We parked in a space and with maps in hand walked over to a picnic table set up by the front door to the kitchen.
After ordering lunch we spread open the maps and looked the situation over. We were in southern Mississippi eating chilli dogs on a beautiful summer day. We had several days left before having to return, money in our pocket and a great riding motorcycle with a full tank of fuel.
Where do we want to go now?
When I'm sitting in the recliner at my son's house and I'm telling my grand youngin's stories about the good ol' days, this will be one of my favorite one's.
Ultimately we decided to haul the mail over to Mobile, Alabama and spend the whole day visiting some spots we thought would be fun and interesting. Even going the long way we made it to Mobile just after dark after riding 430 or so miles, part of it in the rain.
It was a hurried ride on the back roads of southern Mississippi and into Alabama. After eating supper we did some laundry and turned in for the night. We were in full tourist mode tomorrow.
Starring down the bow of the U.S.S. Alabama in Mobile Bay, Alabama. Those are some BIG guns!As we had done before, Julie and I each picked a point of interest we wanted so see and split the day seeing them. I picked the U.S.S. Alabama Memorial, Julie decided on Bellingrath Gardens.
I had visited here many (many) years ago, but really wanted to see it again. My darling bride graciously sucked it up and spent part of a day tramping around and inside of both the Battleship Alabama and the WWII diesel Submarine U.S.S. Drum.
She's such a trooper.
Overview of hurricane damaged aircraft at Mobile Bay. Most were inside a hanger that was badly damaged as well, but managed to at least protect them from any more damage.
As we were leaving the battleship we met an older gentleman that told us he had been a sailor on the Alabama during WWII. http://www.ussalabama.com/He told us about an accident in which he had been involved in during battle operations. A miscue in communications led to the firing of one of the ships med sized amored gun turrets firing directly into the side of the turret beside it.
Standing at the base of the gangway leading off the ship he used his walking cane and pointed at the gun position that took the point blank hit. He told us that he had been stationed in the turret, but deep inside it, down in the lower part of the ship. He and a few others managed to escape, the rest in the upper levels of the position perished.
He told us how the fires burned uncontrolably for a while and that the intense heat made the metal of the wreckage and surrounding area of the hull glow bright red. When darkenss came the glow was still so bright it could easily seen by enemy aircraft and vessels. Using tarpoleans and what ever else they could find they built a make shift cover trying to conceal themselves as much as possible.
We spoke a little more and then some people walked up and asked if he was ready to go. I thanked him for sharing his memories with us and then shook his hand, thanking him for his service to our country. He smiled and walked away.
It's a sad story about a dark time in someones life, but a special part of history. I can't tell you how honored I feel that he shared it with us.
Remembering him, I share it with you.
In the afternoon we visited the Bellingrath Home & Gardens. The beautiful home and gardens of the Bellingrath family that was given to the state as a historical place. http://www.bellingrath.org/Julie and I split the day between the U.S.S. Alabama Memorial and Bellingrath Gardens, each of us choosing what we wanted to see. I think I got the better end of the deal because Bellingrath's is one of the neatest places I've ever been. But a battleship is more of a guy thing I guess...
Sunset at Bellingrath Gardens.We didn't take any more photo's after this the rest of the way home for some reason. We spent the night not far up the road that night having spent the biggest part of the day in and around Mobile.
The next day we rode to Thomaston, Georgia and stopped for the day. We went to supper with my aunt's Mary Jo and sister Jane, Mary Jo's daughter Kim and her daughter Ashley. We all had a wonderful visit and then called it a night.
From Thomaston we headed up the back roads of Georgia and into South Carolina. It was a lazy ride that took us through the piney woods and sand country, across a dam and by a resivoir and into the town of Greenwood, South Carolina for the night. Enjoying a good meal and a couple of cold ones at a sports bar, then playing a game of pool before calling it a night.
We made it home the next day. While it was good to be home, and we were both worn out from having been gone for so long, it was also kind of sad to see the adventure come to an end.
The trip ended up being just shy of 2,400 miles and we had been gone eight days. Not Ironbutt time, but that hadn't been the point. We were tourist. Touring on our tourer.
It was great!
I wouldn't mind riding the Trace again but I think this time I'd want to do it going the other direction this time, just, because... I don't think Julie would mind, but it isn't high on her priority list.
There other rides to go on.
Bruce
A New Era For Us
In August of 2004 Julie and I bought our Nomad as an Anniversary gift to each other. I have often said it was the best thing we ever did for our marriage.I worked at a Kawasaki dealership at the time and was able to get some good deals on the bike and the accessories we wanted for the bike. It was set up for us with the creature comforts, performance add on pieces and nice little features that made it our own from the very beginning. We rode it home bone stock, but when it got there, the transformation began. Bryan and I did all the work and installed each and every piece on it. I take pride in that.
We really didn’t get to ride much in 2004, buying the bike in the fall of the year and having other obligations on some week-ends left us little time. A couple of rides to and on the Blue Ridge Parkway are about all that comes to mind. Winter came and we rode just enough to wet our whistle and make us look forward to riding the next year.
Roots Planted Firmly The Woods
Most every thing you'll find here will be about riding on road. It's actually fairly new to us though. We've spent many years riding and racing off road. I raced motocross through out the 70's. Injuries and life forced me to give up racing and ultimately riding for many years.
In 1992 Bryan got a Honda XR50 for his fifth birthday. Since he couldn't ride alone Dad got a Honda XR600 for Bryan's birthday too! It was riding time again!
We rode the woods and trails in both the Carolina's at private riding parks and state own public ORV areas. It didn't take long for the racing bug to bite and in just a few years we were racing in cross country events called hare scrambles.
In the roughly 10 years we were involved with it we had some success, had lots of fun and met many great people. We quit racing in 2004 and have only ridden the dirt bikes occasionally since then.
They are still in the basement shop at home, but are all in some stage of dis-assembly or re-assembly. There are three, Bryan's '01 Kawasaki KX250, my '02 Cannondale E440R and a spare/parts '03 Cannondale X440R.
Bryan's KX is in a slow resurrection from toast to trick getting a complete and major overhaul. No bearing or seal has been left un-replaced, the engine is being freshened up, the suspension is already done. New brakes, tires, tubes, rims and spokes. She'll be ready to rock.
The 'Dale needs close to the same thing, and is in the beginning stages of tear down. We hope to get the spare one up and ready to ride soon too having most everything we need on hand to complete these projects, except time.
Once the dirt bikes are ready to go Bryan and I both are looking forward to doing some woods riding again. I'm pretty sure my racing days are behind me, but I'd still like to go for a ride in the woods with Bryan when we can.
Then there's the toter-home that needs a little help...
Bruce
In 1992 Bryan got a Honda XR50 for his fifth birthday. Since he couldn't ride alone Dad got a Honda XR600 for Bryan's birthday too! It was riding time again!
We rode the woods and trails in both the Carolina's at private riding parks and state own public ORV areas. It didn't take long for the racing bug to bite and in just a few years we were racing in cross country events called hare scrambles.
In the roughly 10 years we were involved with it we had some success, had lots of fun and met many great people. We quit racing in 2004 and have only ridden the dirt bikes occasionally since then.
They are still in the basement shop at home, but are all in some stage of dis-assembly or re-assembly. There are three, Bryan's '01 Kawasaki KX250, my '02 Cannondale E440R and a spare/parts '03 Cannondale X440R.
Bryan's KX is in a slow resurrection from toast to trick getting a complete and major overhaul. No bearing or seal has been left un-replaced, the engine is being freshened up, the suspension is already done. New brakes, tires, tubes, rims and spokes. She'll be ready to rock.
The 'Dale needs close to the same thing, and is in the beginning stages of tear down. We hope to get the spare one up and ready to ride soon too having most everything we need on hand to complete these projects, except time.
Once the dirt bikes are ready to go Bryan and I both are looking forward to doing some woods riding again. I'm pretty sure my racing days are behind me, but I'd still like to go for a ride in the woods with Bryan when we can.
Then there's the toter-home that needs a little help...
Bruce
The Rut; Summer of 2003
My son Bryan and I, as well as a couple of the other local guys havebeen working on the trails of the Hare Scrambles course at Healing
Springs, NC over the last couple of week-ends and today we were going
to ride.
The trails are passable, but in very poor condition. There are
holes, roots, rocks, ruts and assorted trail junk littering the old
race track. The ground was wet, and water was standing in all the
holes, ruts and low laying areas. A couple of the streams were high
and in places out of the banks. Still, in other places the ground
resembled loam, and good traction was available.
I rode a total of 4 laps, which is about what I would do in a typical
race there. It did take me more than an hour and a half to get them
done on the other hand.
The first lap I felt like a total spode, well ok, even more so than
normal. I remember having thoughts of just selling the bike and
changing my name to Alice 'cause I sure didn't seem to be able to
ride
the blasted thing. At the end of the lap I pulled in and stopped for
a bit. Drank some water and shot the s*** with the guys that were
there with us.
I ran the next two laps back to back, I was beginning to get the feel
for the bike and getting into a groove riding. For sure I wasn't
haulin' a$$, but I did have a good pace and more importantly to me, I
was starting to get that feeling of flowing with the bike. In a
couple of sections I found myself actually attacking the course and
the obstacles on the trail. I took another lengthy pit stop at the
end of those laps to rest and re-group. I still had one more in me,
and as I was getting familiar with the course I hoped that I'd be able
to put in a lap at a quick pace and then park it for the day.
Leaving on the last lap I felt confident and good. It was great to
be on the bike, and though I rode through some of the more technical
and difficult sections like the total spode I really am, in others I
felt like a hero, connecting several turns and straights at a time
making few mistakes and keeping my pace up.
I was coming out of a slick small little downhill section and
remembered a line at the end of the section that lead right across
the
middle of a piece of bottom land. I had been going left and around
over some nasty a$$ slick roots and losing time, so I decided to go
right down the middle in this wide rut that was full of standing
water.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have tried to do it like some
sort of GNCC hero but at the time it seemed perfectly logical. I
twisted the throttle and got the old 432 Clatterdale up on the cams.
The front end was light and I was standing, crouched with my weight
back. At first the rut was about as deep as I'd figured it was and
my momentum was carrying me easily through it, the front end not
really touching the water but just skimming across the top. Traction
was there so I continued pouring it on focusing on the top of the
rise ahead.
I could actually feel the rear tire digging in and the bike
accelerating through the mud and goo. I was in control and focused.
Life was good.
By now you’re figuring that something is about to go wrong. You ofcourse would be right.
No, I didn't crash and get hurt, and really I didn't even technically
crash, as I never came off the bike. But...
It was if the earth just opened up and tried to swallow me. In fact
I don't mind admitting that for a moment I envisioned myself riding
into some sort of geological anomaly or something. The ground just
simply vanished. At first I was sort of hydroplaning across the top
of the water but the back end quickly headed down and the water was
so deep that the only way I know how to describe the feeling is that
it felt just like when you drop the rope water skiing. I slowed down
and sunk at the very same angle that I had entered the rut. The
water was almost up to my knees and my a$$ was wet, and the sumbitch
was STILL SINKING but still going forward. My only hope was that I
would find the bottom of the rut before the water went over my
head.
I must have been living right lately, because as luck would have it,
the skid plate ground itself into the 'bank' on the far side of this
rut from hell and I was also STILL enough in control of the bike and
aware of my surroundings that I was able to sorta push forward on the
bars while planting my feet on the ground beside me... in about two
feet of goo.
What little forward motion I still had was lost, the small amount the
bike
had let it pull out from underneath me an