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.
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.
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!
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
