A buddy of mine was coming up to visit this past weekend. He used to be one of my psych. professors and the first day of classes (was a night class) he walked in with his helmet and leather jacket in hand. Alright, I gotta talk to this guy. A friendship was immediately forged and we have been able to keep in touch over the years.
He recently accepted a position northeast of Atlanta and is now "close enough" that we can get together and ride periodically. He has lived in Louisiana the past few years and the riding down there just sucks! He was needing a "good roads" fix and thought a visit to Knoxville was in order. I convinced him to come crash here for the night.
It was arranged that I would meet up with him on the ride up and we could ride together. It's been six? years since he and I last rode together, so this will be great.
The plan was to be in Tellico Plains at the Hunt's Lodge around 1:00 so we could make a lunch date he had with a former colleague of his (who also is a former prof. of mine) at 2:30 at the Downtown Grill and Brewery in Knoxville.
I got up on time, grabbed a snack bar, strapped my cooler to the bike (after all, I was going to be in Knoxville, I can get some good beer), and was rolling earlier than necessary. I planned to arrive around 12:30 hoping that Lori would be around and I could hang out and visit with her. The early departure would mean that I would have more time to visit.
Something about riding on a bike staring into a cloudless, blue sky makes me smile! Paired with some fun roads, I'm quite the happy camper.
I was rolling along at a fairly spirited pace and enjoying myself and wound up on 321 west of Gatlinburg when I fell in behind a guy riding an R6 or R1 (was hard to tell) following a line of cars. Eventually he got tired of droning on and pulled a DY pass on a long straight. It was long enough and Cloud9 has enough power that I was able to easily follow suit.
When the road went to four lane, traffic got us shuffled and I wound up leading. Once it got twisty, I cranked back on the throttle and he didn't seem interested in playing. We split off when I came up to the Foothills Parkway.
I had the Parkway all to myself. There was traffic coming from the other direction, but nothing in my lane the *whole* way. It was odd. I like this early morning riding!
Again, a spirited pace was maintained and I quickly find myself on 129 and run down to the Dragon. Again, this early morning deal, ain't so bad!
I'm cooking along pretty well and all I encountered was a guy on a Vmax poking along. After a few turns, he waved me past and I happily obliged. Then came up on two other riders who were out for a stroll and they promptly pulled into a pull off and again I scooted past. That was it! no other traffic!
A half mile or so later I am preparing to enter a right turn and there is a guy standing next to his bike just off the other side of the road, but the bike is facing the "wrong" way (the same direction as I was headed). The bike looked fine, the rider looked fine, I waved and he returned it, but something didn't seem right.
I turned around and saw why he was standing there. He now has parts to contribute to the tree of shame and his riding day was finished. The left side of the bike was all tore up. It was a Suzuki-something. I didn't pay too close attention to that. He told me he felt the exhaust bottom out and it was surfing time.
The rider was fine as the gear did its job. He had a good outlook as he said "I was going to make this a track bike anyway, I guess now I definitely will." Heh!
By now, the riders that had let me by also stopped and there were 5 of us to get his bike out of the ditch. Once we got him squared away, I offered him a ride back to the resort where his truck and trailer was, but he said he doesn't "ride bitch" and would wait until someone in a car came by to get him back. Okay, nothing more I can do, so I headed on my way.
Soon I am at my favorite road. Ahhh Cherahola Skyway! what absolute asphalt bliss! So much fun!
Sadly, I see that Killboy is now up there taking pics too. Damn I hope they don't kill that road like they did the Dragon.
I arrived at Hunt's Lodge shortly after noon. Wow! even with the stop to help the guy on the Dragon, I made darn good time! Sadly, though Lori was not there, nor was anyone else.
I waited around and figured Brian would be along shortly as he is usually rather prompt ... and waited ... and waited. It is now nearly 1:30 and I'm getting worried. Again, this is very uncharacteristic of him and all the "what if's" are going through my head. Of course, my cell is out of service for now and I cannot call to check on him.
He showed up shortly thereafter cursing the traffic that is the urban sprawl of Atlanta. I was just glad it was a traffic issue. We catch up a bit, look over his GS and my Bandit, and then head towards Knoxville. TN-360 is a nice run and he is holding right to my tail. By the time we get to 411 and he is grinning ear to ear! (as am I)
We got to the brewery a little late but not fashionable and Brian did call the guy we were meeting to let him know, but he was nowhere to be found. Ah well! we ordered a beer (their porter is quite good!) and he calls another buddy to see what he is up to and if he wishes to join us. Turns out, he was just up the street at another bar and they came right over. I hadn't seen either of them in a long time either so it was a great session getting caught up.
After lunch and another delicious porter we head over to the beer store where I grabbed a couple beers he hadn't tried before, loaded them in the cooler, got some ice at a nearby convenience store and we're off to take the long way to Newport.
We got caught in a light, 10 minute spitting rain shower, but it was rather welcomed as the temperature was quite warm. What was really neat (and I should've stopped and snapped a picture, but didn't) was the rainbow that appeared. You could see the whole thing. Only once before have I seen the whole span of a rainbow. Additionally, on the end closest to us, you could actually see where the colors "touched" the ground. That was really cool! but never spied a pot of gold.
We were on TN-131 for what seemed like, well, forever! Good Lord, it just went on and on and was a mostly straight boring stretch. I had to abort the route I had put together as it had gotten late and neither of us are particularly crazy about night riding. We got to the top of Clinch Mountain and took in a million dollar view and decided to just take the quick way back to the house as daylight was getting scarce.
We beat the darkness home and both had an interesting path up the driveway. I had just graded it the day before because it was pretty rutted and washboard-like. Problem is that the gravel is getting thin. You can only spread it so far.
When I came in, I accidentally downshifted into second, not first. I figured it out about halfway up, but by then it was too late. I kept momentum and let the bike dance around under me on the loose gravel. I made it up it okay, but it was interesting. Brian also had his bike dance on him on the way up but no drops, so it's all good!
Once home, we sat back and drank some good beers (both mass-produced and from skipp'n rocks brewery -- that would be my homebrews ;j ) and great conversation for the rest of the night. Good times!
Monday, August 27, 2012
Cutting it close ...
I told Brian I would ride with him a little of his ride home, but since Melissa had to be at work by 6 PM, I would be unable to join him for much of it. To further shorten my participation, Melissa had to run a text book over to Megan. By the time Melissa returned and we were ready to roll it was nearly 2 PM, leaving me 3 1/2 hours to ride with him.
I figured I would ride down to Waynesville with him and then turn back. We took off down US 25 and before leaving Newport, I asked if he was hungry. It was decided we would stop somewhere down the road about 30 miles or so.
US 25/70 is closed (for some reason) and detours you off to TN-107/TN-70/NC-208. This is a great run and usually how I would go to Hot Springs to take NC-209 (fantastic road). Unfortunately, now EVERYONE is going this way.
Funny story, before we got to the detour, we came upon a line of Harleys (4, I think) followed by a pickup truck. They were poking along, as you may expect, and the pickup truck pulled a pass on the bikes. I was laughing inside my helmet. Of course, Brian and I followed suit.
On 107 we came up on a line of cars and two bikes. The lead bike was a Magna, but I couldn't tell what the bike directly in front of me was outside of a sporty standard. They pulled a pass of the cars, as did Brian and I once the opportunity presented itself.
The bikes turned onto 70 and I was a bit bummed because I knew the stretch coming up is great fun and we would likely be stuck behind these guys. The Magna rider was pretty smooth but the other guy wasn't as seasoned.
We get to a junction of NC-208 and NC-212 and the bikes stayed on 208. For some reason, I was thinking I wanted 212 as it is nice and twisty and DOES connect to 25. Besides, the bikes were taking 208.
I opted for 212 and after about 8 or so miles realized it doesn't connect. Brian confirmed that on his GPS and we turned around to head back and were able to enjoy a fairly clean run on 208. This stretch is awesome. It runs right next to the river and offers some tasty curves with PLENTY of sight lines. WOO HOO! what cars we encountered were quickly dispatched.
We got back to US 25 and headed towards Hot Springs when we encounter the same 4? Harley riders we had passed before the detour. Heh! Of course, we had to pass them again. Seriously, they were going *that* slow!
Pulled into the Smoky Mountain Diner in Hot Springs. EVERYtime I have ever gone by this place the parking lot is jam-packed. I suggested we stop there to eat and Brian was fine with that. I am glad we did.
I understand why it is always full. Great food and prices are very reasonable. I had a chicken wrap (that I needed two hands to hold) and cucumber salad. YUM! That hit the spot nicely.
However, due to the detour, my error on 212, and some casual conversation, it is now 4 PM. I considered just heading back to the house, but figured I was this close to 209 that I had to run at *least* some of it and then turn back.
We crossed a bridge and there was a left turn as you exit the bridge. The road surface goes from concrete to ashphalt. Well today, it was *sand*-covered asphalt. I slowed down on the bridge once I saw the sand, but once I got to the sand the bike started sliding.
HOLYMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT!!! NOT AGAIN!! Oh, I was mad! the bike slid for maybe a 1/4 second but I had enough time with my thoughts that I considered hanging up street riding. I was ... ugh!! ... yeah THAT upset!
Luckily, that 1/4 second was not detrimental and I was able to keep the bike upright.
I love NC-209! I know it like the back of my hand. I even got a free run for the first 2 miles of it. Ahhh! good times!
But all good things must come to an end. There was an SUV ahead and there were no more pull offs and sight lines were limited, so I just cooled my tires in behind it. The next place I could find to pull over, I did, and Brian waved as he continued on back to GA.
I am now in "go" mode and wicked the tempo up considerably. I am running between 85 mph and up the whole way and passing ... EVERYthing! I had to get home -- and it was going to be close!
I pulled into Newport at 5:30 and am 10 minutes from the house. Melissa typically leaves at 5:40 so I can *just* make it. As I pulled in she was heading out the door. Perfect!
I figured I would ride down to Waynesville with him and then turn back. We took off down US 25 and before leaving Newport, I asked if he was hungry. It was decided we would stop somewhere down the road about 30 miles or so.
US 25/70 is closed (for some reason) and detours you off to TN-107/TN-70/NC-208. This is a great run and usually how I would go to Hot Springs to take NC-209 (fantastic road). Unfortunately, now EVERYONE is going this way.
Funny story, before we got to the detour, we came upon a line of Harleys (4, I think) followed by a pickup truck. They were poking along, as you may expect, and the pickup truck pulled a pass on the bikes. I was laughing inside my helmet. Of course, Brian and I followed suit.
On 107 we came up on a line of cars and two bikes. The lead bike was a Magna, but I couldn't tell what the bike directly in front of me was outside of a sporty standard. They pulled a pass of the cars, as did Brian and I once the opportunity presented itself.
The bikes turned onto 70 and I was a bit bummed because I knew the stretch coming up is great fun and we would likely be stuck behind these guys. The Magna rider was pretty smooth but the other guy wasn't as seasoned.
We get to a junction of NC-208 and NC-212 and the bikes stayed on 208. For some reason, I was thinking I wanted 212 as it is nice and twisty and DOES connect to 25. Besides, the bikes were taking 208.
I opted for 212 and after about 8 or so miles realized it doesn't connect. Brian confirmed that on his GPS and we turned around to head back and were able to enjoy a fairly clean run on 208. This stretch is awesome. It runs right next to the river and offers some tasty curves with PLENTY of sight lines. WOO HOO! what cars we encountered were quickly dispatched.
We got back to US 25 and headed towards Hot Springs when we encounter the same 4? Harley riders we had passed before the detour. Heh! Of course, we had to pass them again. Seriously, they were going *that* slow!
Pulled into the Smoky Mountain Diner in Hot Springs. EVERYtime I have ever gone by this place the parking lot is jam-packed. I suggested we stop there to eat and Brian was fine with that. I am glad we did.
I understand why it is always full. Great food and prices are very reasonable. I had a chicken wrap (that I needed two hands to hold) and cucumber salad. YUM! That hit the spot nicely.
However, due to the detour, my error on 212, and some casual conversation, it is now 4 PM. I considered just heading back to the house, but figured I was this close to 209 that I had to run at *least* some of it and then turn back.
We crossed a bridge and there was a left turn as you exit the bridge. The road surface goes from concrete to ashphalt. Well today, it was *sand*-covered asphalt. I slowed down on the bridge once I saw the sand, but once I got to the sand the bike started sliding.
HOLYMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT!!! NOT AGAIN!! Oh, I was mad! the bike slid for maybe a 1/4 second but I had enough time with my thoughts that I considered hanging up street riding. I was ... ugh!! ... yeah THAT upset!
Luckily, that 1/4 second was not detrimental and I was able to keep the bike upright.
I love NC-209! I know it like the back of my hand. I even got a free run for the first 2 miles of it. Ahhh! good times!
But all good things must come to an end. There was an SUV ahead and there were no more pull offs and sight lines were limited, so I just cooled my tires in behind it. The next place I could find to pull over, I did, and Brian waved as he continued on back to GA.
I am now in "go" mode and wicked the tempo up considerably. I am running between 85 mph and up the whole way and passing ... EVERYthing! I had to get home -- and it was going to be close!
I pulled into Newport at 5:30 and am 10 minutes from the house. Melissa typically leaves at 5:40 so I can *just* make it. As I pulled in she was heading out the door. Perfect!
Friday, August 10, 2012
cacophony of quiet
So yesterday I am sitting outside just enjoying a little sunshine and the sights and sounds that make up the back yard ....
It is peaceful. It's not silent, but it's peaceful. It was a cacophony of quiet. The very oxymoronic quality of this amused me. Cacophony of quiet, that is EXACTLY what it was.
There is no place on this Earth where you can go and have it be completely silent. There may be manmade soundproof chambers, sure, but outside of that.
Additionally, since, there are degrees of "quiet", a cacophony seems a fitting modifier. So a cacophony of quiet isn't as odd as it would seem.
Anyway, the sounds of various insects and birds inundated the air. Far from quiet but it was peaceful. We all deal with the cacophony of silence in some respect. Granted, yours may not be the sound of insects and birds if you live in an urban setting, but then you get used to tuning out those noises that are "normal". When I visit folks that live in such areas, I am always amazed at how many sirens I hear (fire, ambulance, police, etc). The people living there have learned to tune it out.
That is their cacophony of quiet, but my cacophony of noise. I reckon I'm just a country mouse. ; )
Another example of what you get used to and tend to ignore -- in the morning before Dad gets up, it's quiet, no TV, no guttural noises, nothing but ... quiet! Yeah, the doors and windows are always open so you can hear the "bitrds and the bees" and such ...
anyhow, I was doing something in the kitchen and didn't want the fan blowing cool damp morning air in on me, so I shut it off. That fan runs 24/7 drawing cooler air into the house. I never realized how "loud" it is. When that shut off it was much quieter. It's amazing what you get used to.
I hope wherever you are, you have your own cacophony of quiet and have tuned out the cacophony of noise. .
(This pic represents about where I was sitting)
It is peaceful. It's not silent, but it's peaceful. It was a cacophony of quiet. The very oxymoronic quality of this amused me. Cacophony of quiet, that is EXACTLY what it was.
There is no place on this Earth where you can go and have it be completely silent. There may be manmade soundproof chambers, sure, but outside of that.
Additionally, since, there are degrees of "quiet", a cacophony seems a fitting modifier. So a cacophony of quiet isn't as odd as it would seem.
Anyway, the sounds of various insects and birds inundated the air. Far from quiet but it was peaceful. We all deal with the cacophony of silence in some respect. Granted, yours may not be the sound of insects and birds if you live in an urban setting, but then you get used to tuning out those noises that are "normal". When I visit folks that live in such areas, I am always amazed at how many sirens I hear (fire, ambulance, police, etc). The people living there have learned to tune it out.
That is their cacophony of quiet, but my cacophony of noise. I reckon I'm just a country mouse. ; )
Another example of what you get used to and tend to ignore -- in the morning before Dad gets up, it's quiet, no TV, no guttural noises, nothing but ... quiet! Yeah, the doors and windows are always open so you can hear the "bitrds and the bees" and such ...
anyhow, I was doing something in the kitchen and didn't want the fan blowing cool damp morning air in on me, so I shut it off. That fan runs 24/7 drawing cooler air into the house. I never realized how "loud" it is. When that shut off it was much quieter. It's amazing what you get used to.
I hope wherever you are, you have your own cacophony of quiet and have tuned out the cacophony of noise. .
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
chasing clock
So this is the first time ever that I have my shit together and am ready to just jump on the bike in the morning. There is always something I need to pack. This time, everything except what I would be carrying on me personally was packed and fastened to the bike. Good to go!
One thing was troublesome though. I knew it was going to be tight when I had packed it. I mean we are talking a LOT of beer. Christopher and I figured three cases is about 70 lbs.or so.
There is nothing but beer in the green bag. There is also beer in the tank bag and the side bags. The blue tarp is wrapped around my tent, sleeping pad, and sleeping bag. the black plastic bag has clothes, towel, deodorant, etc. for the weekend.
Luckily, arrangements had been made to drop it off at Phil's (about 3 1/2 hours away) so I wouldn't have all that extra weight to haul all those extra miles -- and besides, with Phil delivering them they would be less likely to arrive late at night. ; ) Thanks again, buddy, that was AWESOME!
But what I *hadn't* done yet is road test the bike with that weight and where it was placed. No matter what I could do, I could not figure out how to cinch that green bag back any further. As a result, my right nut was pretty well squished into the tank.
I needed to figure something out, or it will be a very long 3 1/2 hours. I get to the gas station and as I go to fuel up, I realize I don't have the directions I need ... and I need them!
GAH! I left the house on time because "everything" was packed on the bike. everything except .....
So now I'm a bit annoyed that I left on time and I am still not getting out of town on time. It's a little setback, but I wasn't happy. I rush back up the street to the house, back up the driveway, dart through the house, grab the directions off the dresser, and start to get back on the bike only to realize now ... I don't have my gloves.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Argh!
I set them on the "beer" bag on the back of the bike while fueling. Luckily, I was already planning to retrace my steps but now at a much slower pace while I comb the side of the road for my gloves. I found one about 3/4 mile or so away from the gas station. Parked the bike, nodded to the little old woman on the porch, grabbed my glove from across the street, smiled at her and said "left the gas station in too much a hurry", mounted back up and found the other one closer to where I would have expected ... within a few hundred feet of the parking lot I left.
Cool! I got gloved back up -- if this is all I have to worry about today, I've got it made.
It took me nearly an hour, but I finally figured if I half hung my ass to one side of the seat it would provide some relief in the nether area. So that made the next couple hours a bit more tolerable.
I showed up at Phil's only 20 minutes later than I wanted (but still within the window). While unloading, he offered to not only carry the beer to the SME, but also would bring my camp gear too. Sweet! Thanks again, Phil.
He then took me to his beer store. Yeah! I could have made him really late to work so we stayed there briefly and then went back to his place.
He headed off to work, and I went back to the beer store to drool some and buy some beers. Well, this will now put me behind the clock. The directions and gloves issue didn't take too long, but that little visit to the beer store, yeah, I'm running late!
I manage to find GeoDad's place but am about an hour late by now I think. He and Rosie fed me some steamed broccoli and arroz con pollo. Who says you can't eat healthy on the road? It was very good as was the company. Thanks George!
Well the whole chasing clock thing just gets exponential. I called Skip to let him know that I am behind. Actually this worked out to his advantage as he had forgotten his daughter had a softball game and he had to be there. So I tell him I should probably arrive around 9 (that's two hours lost at this point)
By the time I get to his house it's 10 (3 hours -- how does it accumulate that fast?). Anyway, I no sooner get my helmet and gloves removed and he pulls in on his bike. Perfect!
I was so happy to remove the helmet. It had been slab, slab, slab all ... day .... long!
Not only that, but if all went according to plan (uh-oh), wouldn't be on slab anymore the rest of the weekend except for one short stretch.
Greetings were exchanged. Then instead of the nearly ubiquitous snapping of a beer, I asked him for some water. I had been making miles all day and hadn't really drank much. I never grabbed a water at the first stop (like I habitually do) because of the directions fiasco. Usually I take a few sips while I refuel. I never did get any.
Aside from a beer with dinner and a glass of water at George's, I hadn't anything since before I left the house at 9:30. Bad move, but my body knew -- my throat wanted water, not beer. After rehydrating, we went about the dehydration process by trying *many* great beers until the early morning hours.
One thing was troublesome though. I knew it was going to be tight when I had packed it. I mean we are talking a LOT of beer. Christopher and I figured three cases is about 70 lbs.or so.
Luckily, arrangements had been made to drop it off at Phil's (about 3 1/2 hours away) so I wouldn't have all that extra weight to haul all those extra miles -- and besides, with Phil delivering them they would be less likely to arrive late at night. ; ) Thanks again, buddy, that was AWESOME!
But what I *hadn't* done yet is road test the bike with that weight and where it was placed. No matter what I could do, I could not figure out how to cinch that green bag back any further. As a result, my right nut was pretty well squished into the tank.
I needed to figure something out, or it will be a very long 3 1/2 hours. I get to the gas station and as I go to fuel up, I realize I don't have the directions I need ... and I need them!
GAH! I left the house on time because "everything" was packed on the bike. everything except .....
So now I'm a bit annoyed that I left on time and I am still not getting out of town on time. It's a little setback, but I wasn't happy. I rush back up the street to the house, back up the driveway, dart through the house, grab the directions off the dresser, and start to get back on the bike only to realize now ... I don't have my gloves.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Argh!
I set them on the "beer" bag on the back of the bike while fueling. Luckily, I was already planning to retrace my steps but now at a much slower pace while I comb the side of the road for my gloves. I found one about 3/4 mile or so away from the gas station. Parked the bike, nodded to the little old woman on the porch, grabbed my glove from across the street, smiled at her and said "left the gas station in too much a hurry", mounted back up and found the other one closer to where I would have expected ... within a few hundred feet of the parking lot I left.
Cool! I got gloved back up -- if this is all I have to worry about today, I've got it made.
It took me nearly an hour, but I finally figured if I half hung my ass to one side of the seat it would provide some relief in the nether area. So that made the next couple hours a bit more tolerable.
I showed up at Phil's only 20 minutes later than I wanted (but still within the window). While unloading, he offered to not only carry the beer to the SME, but also would bring my camp gear too. Sweet! Thanks again, Phil.
He then took me to his beer store. Yeah! I could have made him really late to work so we stayed there briefly and then went back to his place.
He headed off to work, and I went back to the beer store to drool some and buy some beers. Well, this will now put me behind the clock. The directions and gloves issue didn't take too long, but that little visit to the beer store, yeah, I'm running late!
I manage to find GeoDad's place but am about an hour late by now I think. He and Rosie fed me some steamed broccoli and arroz con pollo. Who says you can't eat healthy on the road? It was very good as was the company. Thanks George!
Well the whole chasing clock thing just gets exponential. I called Skip to let him know that I am behind. Actually this worked out to his advantage as he had forgotten his daughter had a softball game and he had to be there. So I tell him I should probably arrive around 9 (that's two hours lost at this point)
By the time I get to his house it's 10 (3 hours -- how does it accumulate that fast?). Anyway, I no sooner get my helmet and gloves removed and he pulls in on his bike. Perfect!
I was so happy to remove the helmet. It had been slab, slab, slab all ... day .... long!
Not only that, but if all went according to plan (uh-oh), wouldn't be on slab anymore the rest of the weekend except for one short stretch.
Greetings were exchanged. Then instead of the nearly ubiquitous snapping of a beer, I asked him for some water. I had been making miles all day and hadn't really drank much. I never grabbed a water at the first stop (like I habitually do) because of the directions fiasco. Usually I take a few sips while I refuel. I never did get any.
Aside from a beer with dinner and a glass of water at George's, I hadn't anything since before I left the house at 9:30. Bad move, but my body knew -- my throat wanted water, not beer. After rehydrating, we went about the dehydration process by trying *many* great beers until the early morning hours.
according to plan ... or something
Okay so Skip got me to roll out of bed about 9:30 AM. That would mean we should be able to meet the 10 AM departure. I think that would be the only thing that would go according to plan all day. ; )
Skip wanted to grab breakfast so we hit a little Mexican place called Anita's he knew about. They had a spinach and chile breakfast burrito served with a side of refried beans -- not my usual breakfast fare, but it was really good -- and I couldn't eat it all (was a big burrito).
As we were waiting for the food we decided to re-look at the maps. As a result the ride to Charlottesville to David's local brewery -- where he usually filled his growler he showed up with -- was scrapped. Also, the Beer Run, a beer store Phil recommended, got scrapped since both were in Charlottesville. Now not only do we not have a growler of beer, but we haven't grabbed any bottled beers yet either.
The deviation from the plan was due to some idiot (me) stating that since we were going to be going near Elkton, let's just jump over the mountain then criss cross over and back that ridge. I have been wanting to run that stretch for years but never got to. So, that's what we decided to do. We would hop and skip (no pun intended across that mountain winding our way southeast (as we were in W(BG)V then). When we needed to get to the brewery we would beat feet on the slab if needed.
Until we hit US 211, we were on mostly US highways and was not slab, but still mostly connectors. 211 looked fun on the map and it did not disappoint. As much as I hate the People's Republik of Virginia, I will give kudos to the VDOT. They have the ascending side of the mountain two laned.
I had been following Skip, but when the road opened I grabbed the outside lane and figured we would run side by side. He fell in behind me and we just opened the bikes up!
This is the first time I have been able to dance on these new shoes. I got them mounted just before the trip but been slabbing the whole day yesterday. I am rolling along quite nicely through the curves, grinning the whole time!
THIS is why I ride! Man, that was fun! The surface was smooth, the road just weaved its way up the mountain left then right then left then right then ..... and the bandit's 1250 cc's were just singing a pretty tune.
From 211 I think we picked up a few miles of slab to get to 33 west of Elkton. Again, I have been wanting to run this for years. It's about 4-5 miles of straight through national forest then you hit the mountain.
I'm anxiously awaiting this road and up ahead dark clouds were looming. By the time we approached the first set of switchbacks climbing the mountain, the road was wet and it was sprinkling. New tires or not, I just don't trust wet roads, so not going to push it here. I guess I just need to go back through there when it's dry.
This slow, but steady sprinkle stayed with us the rest of the day. I don't like riding in the rain, but I don't let it stop me either. Skip, HATES riding in the rain. I mean *really* hates it! I find it less miserable when I have someone riding with me (misery loves company thing?). I don't think that worked for Skip.
The wet road forced us to slow down from what was anticipated had we been running this route when it was dry. It was a shame too because the roads could have been fun.
By now we have been in an hour of rain, and I am starting to get a chill. The past two days, I have been sweating, now have a chill. Apparently, Skip had also. We stopped at the very next store we saw. We watched it drizzle a couple minutes and convinced ourselves to gear up and get on down the road as time was getting tight.
Did I say that this could have been fun if the roads weren't wet? This is nearly torture to go this way on wet roads! What idiot decided to take this .... oh wait!
We finally get to I-81 and I am happy to get there. Oddly, last night I was glad to be done with interstate -- today I'm happy to get to it. Funny how rain changes the game. ; )
Besides, we have lost a ton of time tip toe-ing through the twisty wet roads. It doesn't seem like we are going to make it to the brewery on time. Luckily, those that said they might make it know of my propensity to be late.
We arrived at the brewery at 5:40. So we were 40 minutes late. It turns out, that the rain had also affected their plans and they scrapped it.
No worries, we still lifted a glass as we sat there shivering in cold and we were still able to fill the growler. Now we just had to find a beer store. It just so happens that Phil's local store was en route (or at least not far out of the way) , so we could grab some there. We get there and it's 8:07, they closed at 8:00. Gah!
Luckily, I knew of one other and we managed to find it. They have a good selection and serve food too, so two birds one stone thing. Problem is, it's now 8:00 on a Friday night at a popular campus hangout. It was nearly 10:00 when we left. That's not to say that hanging out two hours with my buddy Skip is such a bad thing. It was just late and I think we were both ready to be done with the miles and slip into some dry clothes.
We were only 40 minutes late to the brewery, but now we are going to be 4 1/2 hours late to the campground. Now granted, we stayed at the brewery for a while trying to shake the chill before taking off, but it's amazing how quickly that time thing gets away.
We slabbed it from there and not much to tell except that we were finally out of the rain -- Yaaay! A little mix up re-entering one interstate because I didn't read the sign and had to go up to the next exit and turn around.
Doh! I got off on this side of the interstate and blindly got back on what would logically take me back where I was, but, NO ... this interchange twists you all around. I think the civil engineers were bored and just wanted to do something different with this one.
Oh well, that was a short 5 minute delay as I blasted up to the next exit and back. Staged back up with Skip as he was wise enough to read the signage and didn't follow me. He told me he signaled me, but I was gone -- I could smell a cold beer by then! ; )
We got to the campground at 11-something, with a growler of beer -- it seemed fitting. Even though I didn't mean for it to be that way, a perfect tribute to Mr. Andersen to show up late with a growler of beer (which we didn't get to until Saturday, but as they say, that's another story).
I smiled and laughed the rest of the night. Good friends and good beers equal good times.
I sat there in my tent, without the rain fly, staring at the stars until my eyes closed just thinking about the day, and that tomorrow will be better as we should see no rain!
Skip wanted to grab breakfast so we hit a little Mexican place called Anita's he knew about. They had a spinach and chile breakfast burrito served with a side of refried beans -- not my usual breakfast fare, but it was really good -- and I couldn't eat it all (was a big burrito).
As we were waiting for the food we decided to re-look at the maps. As a result the ride to Charlottesville to David's local brewery -- where he usually filled his growler he showed up with -- was scrapped. Also, the Beer Run, a beer store Phil recommended, got scrapped since both were in Charlottesville. Now not only do we not have a growler of beer, but we haven't grabbed any bottled beers yet either.
The deviation from the plan was due to some idiot (me) stating that since we were going to be going near Elkton, let's just jump over the mountain then criss cross over and back that ridge. I have been wanting to run that stretch for years but never got to. So, that's what we decided to do. We would hop and skip (no pun intended across that mountain winding our way southeast (as we were in W(BG)V then). When we needed to get to the brewery we would beat feet on the slab if needed.
Until we hit US 211, we were on mostly US highways and was not slab, but still mostly connectors. 211 looked fun on the map and it did not disappoint. As much as I hate the People's Republik of Virginia, I will give kudos to the VDOT. They have the ascending side of the mountain two laned.
I had been following Skip, but when the road opened I grabbed the outside lane and figured we would run side by side. He fell in behind me and we just opened the bikes up!
This is the first time I have been able to dance on these new shoes. I got them mounted just before the trip but been slabbing the whole day yesterday. I am rolling along quite nicely through the curves, grinning the whole time!
THIS is why I ride! Man, that was fun! The surface was smooth, the road just weaved its way up the mountain left then right then left then right then ..... and the bandit's 1250 cc's were just singing a pretty tune.
From 211 I think we picked up a few miles of slab to get to 33 west of Elkton. Again, I have been wanting to run this for years. It's about 4-5 miles of straight through national forest then you hit the mountain.
I'm anxiously awaiting this road and up ahead dark clouds were looming. By the time we approached the first set of switchbacks climbing the mountain, the road was wet and it was sprinkling. New tires or not, I just don't trust wet roads, so not going to push it here. I guess I just need to go back through there when it's dry.
This slow, but steady sprinkle stayed with us the rest of the day. I don't like riding in the rain, but I don't let it stop me either. Skip, HATES riding in the rain. I mean *really* hates it! I find it less miserable when I have someone riding with me (misery loves company thing?). I don't think that worked for Skip.
The wet road forced us to slow down from what was anticipated had we been running this route when it was dry. It was a shame too because the roads could have been fun.
By now we have been in an hour of rain, and I am starting to get a chill. The past two days, I have been sweating, now have a chill. Apparently, Skip had also. We stopped at the very next store we saw. We watched it drizzle a couple minutes and convinced ourselves to gear up and get on down the road as time was getting tight.
Did I say that this could have been fun if the roads weren't wet? This is nearly torture to go this way on wet roads! What idiot decided to take this .... oh wait!
We finally get to I-81 and I am happy to get there. Oddly, last night I was glad to be done with interstate -- today I'm happy to get to it. Funny how rain changes the game. ; )
Besides, we have lost a ton of time tip toe-ing through the twisty wet roads. It doesn't seem like we are going to make it to the brewery on time. Luckily, those that said they might make it know of my propensity to be late.
We arrived at the brewery at 5:40. So we were 40 minutes late. It turns out, that the rain had also affected their plans and they scrapped it.
No worries, we still lifted a glass as we sat there shivering in cold and we were still able to fill the growler. Now we just had to find a beer store. It just so happens that Phil's local store was en route (or at least not far out of the way) , so we could grab some there. We get there and it's 8:07, they closed at 8:00. Gah!
Luckily, I knew of one other and we managed to find it. They have a good selection and serve food too, so two birds one stone thing. Problem is, it's now 8:00 on a Friday night at a popular campus hangout. It was nearly 10:00 when we left. That's not to say that hanging out two hours with my buddy Skip is such a bad thing. It was just late and I think we were both ready to be done with the miles and slip into some dry clothes.
We were only 40 minutes late to the brewery, but now we are going to be 4 1/2 hours late to the campground. Now granted, we stayed at the brewery for a while trying to shake the chill before taking off, but it's amazing how quickly that time thing gets away.
We slabbed it from there and not much to tell except that we were finally out of the rain -- Yaaay! A little mix up re-entering one interstate because I didn't read the sign and had to go up to the next exit and turn around.
Doh! I got off on this side of the interstate and blindly got back on what would logically take me back where I was, but, NO ... this interchange twists you all around. I think the civil engineers were bored and just wanted to do something different with this one.
Oh well, that was a short 5 minute delay as I blasted up to the next exit and back. Staged back up with Skip as he was wise enough to read the signage and didn't follow me. He told me he signaled me, but I was gone -- I could smell a cold beer by then! ; )
We got to the campground at 11-something, with a growler of beer -- it seemed fitting. Even though I didn't mean for it to be that way, a perfect tribute to Mr. Andersen to show up late with a growler of beer (which we didn't get to until Saturday, but as they say, that's another story).
I smiled and laughed the rest of the night. Good friends and good beers equal good times.
I sat there in my tent, without the rain fly, staring at the stars until my eyes closed just thinking about the day, and that tomorrow will be better as we should see no rain!
slip 'n slide
Saturday it seemed everyone was more interested in discussing breakfast than route plans. I dragged my feet enough that nearly everyone had set off for breakfast, so I figured I would poke around a bit and then have a solo run today. It was shortly thereafter Dan Even asked of my plans. I said I had a route thrown together that should be some good stuff, and he was on board.
We headed out 10 minutes later. The weather was postcard-perfect. Beautiful blue skies with puffy white clouds and the temperature was a pleasant 70-something. Tailor-made for motorcycling!
We headed up Walker Mountain and then across VA-42 for a while. I am going to be in need of fuel soon but this pastoral road offered no signs of that happening anytime soon. 42 was a nice meander-through-the-countryside road. There were very easy curves and an occasional house/farm dotting the landscape.
When we got to VA-16, there was a sign indicating Marion was only 10 miles away. I knew I could find gas there. So we headed to Marion, just so we go back over the mountain again. What a shame!
The way back was great. We had the whole run from Marion all the way to Tazewell to ourselves. 16 is such a fun road, but it's even moreso when you have a free run of it. There were gravels littered and we did a good job dodging them. I think we came up on 3 vehicles total, and all at different times, and they were quickly and easily dealt with.
Our next road led us through more of the valley and we did not see a soul! Then it was onto VA-91. This looked wicked fun on the map. However, we get 1/4 mile up the road and it goes to gravel. I asked Dan what he thought and he said if it got bad we could always turn around. Works for me. Gravel doesn't bother me, just so long as it wasn't a 20 mile stretch of it. Dan was in agreement so we pressed on.
He took the helm and after a few short easy miles of hard-pack gravel we were back on asphalt. The gravel section would have been a blast but luckily that carried over onto the paved section as well. Dan had gotten his "mojo" back by now as he was smoothly cutting through the curves. He mentioned he was rusty at the start of the ride, but it looks as if some of that has been shaken off by now. That was fun!
We then got on VA-80 and headed west for a while. WOW! I liked stretches of this one! there were some tight curves in a couple mountain climbs that were quite fun. We were looking for a county road to connect us to our next road but never come across it. That was okay though as 80 was one of those roads you don't want to end. We finally found a subway to stop, grab a bite, and figure out a way to wind our way back to the campground as it was after 2 PM by now.
Heh! I figured it was only about noon, time flies when you're grinning in your helmet!
We picked up VA-83 and this was by far the star of the day, in my opinion! What a great run! Dan was leading and he had the perfect pace for that road. We were coming down the mountain, swinging to the left and right in perfect unison through these perfectly banked downhill sweeping curves. It was a thing of beauty. I actually started giggling in my helmet -- it was euphoric!
We then found our way to 16 and headed south and likely made our most questionable pass of the day. At this point Dan was in the lead and he is more tentative with the DY passes than I -- and that says something. Anyway, we are following this old ambulance van. It didn't *look* like it was still being used, but these are low income townships we are passing through.
Anyway, the van slowed down and Dan ran up on it, and started, then hesitated, then went. There was plenty of sight line, but it just felt ... weird .... passing an ambulance.
I don't know how it happened but at some point later on 16 I was in the lead. We were coming up the mountain above Tazewell and I decided the day had been going too smoothly.
As I approached a left hand turn headed uphill, my front tire found some silt-like gravel that you cannot see as I leaned into the curve. BAM! the bike and I are instantly planted into the asphalt. I had no time to react, I was on the bike, now I'm on the pavement.
My hands were still on the handlebars and I grabbed the front brake as the bike and I were surfing across the asphalt. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the gear, likely both, but as soon as the bike and I stopped, I got to my feet and went about picking it up. It was right about then Dan came around and asked if I were okay, "yeah, I'm pissed though!". At the time I had no idea what happened.
Standing 20' away from where the slide started gave me no clue either. It wasn't until we got within 5' that you could actually see a small strip of very fine, sandlike granules of gravel just before where the skid mark started. Whew! that was a load off my mind. That was just a bad place, bad time thing. There was no way I could have seen that silty gravel stuff to avoid it. I was wondering what I had done to crash this time. That was situational. Granted were I going 5 mph, I probably wouldn't have dumped the bike, but that just ain't gonna happen!
The damage to the bike was minimal. The ball end of the clutch lever snapped off, the handlebar end is going to need replaced, the passenger footpeg was sheared and will need replaced, and the alternator case is scuffed ... that's it! This has GOT to be my bike, it crashes well!
My gear suffered some damage on the knees but that's much better than my skin suffering damage. And really that was "all" the damage too. I picked right up where I left off once I noticed it was just gravel. There was no lingering mindset effect that I've experienced after a crash before. The last 40 miles back to the campground was at a little less aggressive a pace but still didn't dawdle either.
It had been a damn near perfect day of riding. Dan is a great riding partner and we match up fairly well skill wise I think. The weather was super. The roads were excellent! Then I gotta go and crash.
Before heading to the campground we stopped atop Walker Mountain to take a picture from the overlook. Somewhere down in that hollow is the campground.
We got back and Jenn offered to drive KB, Koos, and his wife Wilma, and me over to get dinner. Cool, I didn't really want to gear back up anyway.
A nice dinner at Ruby Tuesdays? I think and we soon headed back to the campground. Many, many goooood beers were drank, toasts were made, lies were told. Typical 'round the campfire stuff! Great times though!
We headed out 10 minutes later. The weather was postcard-perfect. Beautiful blue skies with puffy white clouds and the temperature was a pleasant 70-something. Tailor-made for motorcycling!
We headed up Walker Mountain and then across VA-42 for a while. I am going to be in need of fuel soon but this pastoral road offered no signs of that happening anytime soon. 42 was a nice meander-through-the-countryside road. There were very easy curves and an occasional house/farm dotting the landscape.
When we got to VA-16, there was a sign indicating Marion was only 10 miles away. I knew I could find gas there. So we headed to Marion, just so we go back over the mountain again. What a shame!
The way back was great. We had the whole run from Marion all the way to Tazewell to ourselves. 16 is such a fun road, but it's even moreso when you have a free run of it. There were gravels littered and we did a good job dodging them. I think we came up on 3 vehicles total, and all at different times, and they were quickly and easily dealt with.
Our next road led us through more of the valley and we did not see a soul! Then it was onto VA-91. This looked wicked fun on the map. However, we get 1/4 mile up the road and it goes to gravel. I asked Dan what he thought and he said if it got bad we could always turn around. Works for me. Gravel doesn't bother me, just so long as it wasn't a 20 mile stretch of it. Dan was in agreement so we pressed on.
He took the helm and after a few short easy miles of hard-pack gravel we were back on asphalt. The gravel section would have been a blast but luckily that carried over onto the paved section as well. Dan had gotten his "mojo" back by now as he was smoothly cutting through the curves. He mentioned he was rusty at the start of the ride, but it looks as if some of that has been shaken off by now. That was fun!
We then got on VA-80 and headed west for a while. WOW! I liked stretches of this one! there were some tight curves in a couple mountain climbs that were quite fun. We were looking for a county road to connect us to our next road but never come across it. That was okay though as 80 was one of those roads you don't want to end. We finally found a subway to stop, grab a bite, and figure out a way to wind our way back to the campground as it was after 2 PM by now.
Heh! I figured it was only about noon, time flies when you're grinning in your helmet!
We picked up VA-83 and this was by far the star of the day, in my opinion! What a great run! Dan was leading and he had the perfect pace for that road. We were coming down the mountain, swinging to the left and right in perfect unison through these perfectly banked downhill sweeping curves. It was a thing of beauty. I actually started giggling in my helmet -- it was euphoric!
We then found our way to 16 and headed south and likely made our most questionable pass of the day. At this point Dan was in the lead and he is more tentative with the DY passes than I -- and that says something. Anyway, we are following this old ambulance van. It didn't *look* like it was still being used, but these are low income townships we are passing through.
Anyway, the van slowed down and Dan ran up on it, and started, then hesitated, then went. There was plenty of sight line, but it just felt ... weird .... passing an ambulance.
I don't know how it happened but at some point later on 16 I was in the lead. We were coming up the mountain above Tazewell and I decided the day had been going too smoothly.
As I approached a left hand turn headed uphill, my front tire found some silt-like gravel that you cannot see as I leaned into the curve. BAM! the bike and I are instantly planted into the asphalt. I had no time to react, I was on the bike, now I'm on the pavement.
My hands were still on the handlebars and I grabbed the front brake as the bike and I were surfing across the asphalt. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the gear, likely both, but as soon as the bike and I stopped, I got to my feet and went about picking it up. It was right about then Dan came around and asked if I were okay, "yeah, I'm pissed though!". At the time I had no idea what happened.
Standing 20' away from where the slide started gave me no clue either. It wasn't until we got within 5' that you could actually see a small strip of very fine, sandlike granules of gravel just before where the skid mark started. Whew! that was a load off my mind. That was just a bad place, bad time thing. There was no way I could have seen that silty gravel stuff to avoid it. I was wondering what I had done to crash this time. That was situational. Granted were I going 5 mph, I probably wouldn't have dumped the bike, but that just ain't gonna happen!
The damage to the bike was minimal. The ball end of the clutch lever snapped off, the handlebar end is going to need replaced, the passenger footpeg was sheared and will need replaced, and the alternator case is scuffed ... that's it! This has GOT to be my bike, it crashes well!
My gear suffered some damage on the knees but that's much better than my skin suffering damage. And really that was "all" the damage too. I picked right up where I left off once I noticed it was just gravel. There was no lingering mindset effect that I've experienced after a crash before. The last 40 miles back to the campground was at a little less aggressive a pace but still didn't dawdle either.
It had been a damn near perfect day of riding. Dan is a great riding partner and we match up fairly well skill wise I think. The weather was super. The roads were excellent! Then I gotta go and crash.
Before heading to the campground we stopped atop Walker Mountain to take a picture from the overlook. Somewhere down in that hollow is the campground.
We got back and Jenn offered to drive KB, Koos, and his wife Wilma, and me over to get dinner. Cool, I didn't really want to gear back up anyway.
A nice dinner at Ruby Tuesdays? I think and we soon headed back to the campground. Many, many goooood beers were drank, toasts were made, lies were told. Typical 'round the campfire stuff! Great times though!
The importance of not being seen ...
I had made arrangements to ride with Mr. Schwab at least part of the way home on Sunday morning. I got up and started packing but, of course, he has likely been up since sunup.
I was packed in relatively short order and got yelled at while making my rounds for not making them quick enough. I trot back to the bike and gear up and we are off in short order. We has become Mo, Koos and Wilma, Tim, and I. The plan was to run south toward NC and then see where we would all split off.
Heh! plans! We burned some gas for a while and at one point before the curvy stuff we had a legal opportunity for all four of us to pass a line of cars, but we would have to be moving a bit to do it. Mo goes, by now Tim is second and he takes off. Koos follows, and I'm right on his tail. The passing zone is quickly closing and there is a vehicle up ahead that is also going to make this merge happen a little earlier. I may have been speeding at this time.
I get back to my side before the vehicle is a factor but just after the passing zone line (only by a little bit). As I merged back onto my side, I was able to get some detail out of the vehicle approaching. It's a cop. As I looked in the rear view mirror, I saw a flash of lights. Although, I think it must've been just the way the sun reflected off his light bar. heh!
It may have just been coincidence, but about this time there appeared an interesting little country road off to the right and Mo being the adventurously curious sort that he is ducked onto that as nonchalantly as you please. We all followed suit and never did find out if that was a blue light being flashed or if it was just a mere reflection. ; )
So we're following Mo down this maze of interestingly curious county roads and find ourselves on gravel. Imagine that, with Mo and find a "goat path". Actually it wasn't challenging gravel, but I am not sure Koos was too pleased handling gravels two-up.
Me? I was ecstatic. That cop would've thrown the book at me because he wouldn't have gotten all of us, just me but that is, if, indeed that was him flashing his light and not a reflection. ; )
After a few more turns we found ourselves on US 58 just east of Damascus. Mo lead us down towards Shady Valley to introduce Koos to the Snake.
We grabbed dinner at the store there and I would suggest you not order their double burger unless you are seriously hungry. I ordered a single and it was HUGE! I'd never eaten there before so didn't know.
After lunch things got screwy! The idea was to head south towards Boone and then would break off there. However, as we pulled out of the store, Mo headed north. We all followed suit, but I was confused what was going on.
Mo pulls over into an empty parking lot, but Tim continued on. I pulled in behind Mo, then Koos rolls past. Mo takes back off but is at a crawl. I finally motor on around both he and Koos and get up on Tim's tail. We take off through there and don't see Mo and Koos again until we were stopped at a store and wondering why we were headed north. Mo and Koos rolled right on continuing north. We figured Mo has decided to hit 26 and start trying to get home as time was becoming a factor for him.
Tim and I plan to head back 421 and pick up 91 down to 321? I can't remember then into Boone where we would split company. By the time we got to 91, Tim motioned to stay on 421. I guess he was feeling the curves. He was too, because he checked out.
It was shortly after getting through Mountain City I started getting the "sleepy"s. I pulled up in front of him and ducked into a gas station parking lot and told him I was nodding. He agreed to hang out there for a bit, besides it would give the Sabre a chance to cool down a bit.
As we head out we say our good-byes as we are just above where we will be splitting off. He motions me to take 321 north. I thought that was wrong and as soon as I turned on it, I knew it was. That's okay I can get home a few different ways from here and it's all fun. 321 is fun and is a pretty run right next to the lake, so no worries.
I got on 19-E and turned south, figuring I would cut across Roan Mtn. but my eyes kept wanting to close, so I pull into a gas station and finish off my water. Feeling fatigued, and the fact that my knee was really beginning to hurt, I just wanted to be home at this point and was still a couple hours away yet.
The rest seemed to help, but at this point I had decided not to take the twisty route home. I found a nice 4 lane road with some traffic to help keep my mind busy and hopefully not nod off. It seemed to work and I rolled in about 7 PM after a couple more stops to keep away the nap bug.
I got home to the tune of about 1500 miles for the weekend. What an awesome time, thanks to all who came out and made it such.
I was packed in relatively short order and got yelled at while making my rounds for not making them quick enough. I trot back to the bike and gear up and we are off in short order. We has become Mo, Koos and Wilma, Tim, and I. The plan was to run south toward NC and then see where we would all split off.
Heh! plans! We burned some gas for a while and at one point before the curvy stuff we had a legal opportunity for all four of us to pass a line of cars, but we would have to be moving a bit to do it. Mo goes, by now Tim is second and he takes off. Koos follows, and I'm right on his tail. The passing zone is quickly closing and there is a vehicle up ahead that is also going to make this merge happen a little earlier. I may have been speeding at this time.
I get back to my side before the vehicle is a factor but just after the passing zone line (only by a little bit). As I merged back onto my side, I was able to get some detail out of the vehicle approaching. It's a cop. As I looked in the rear view mirror, I saw a flash of lights. Although, I think it must've been just the way the sun reflected off his light bar. heh!
It may have just been coincidence, but about this time there appeared an interesting little country road off to the right and Mo being the adventurously curious sort that he is ducked onto that as nonchalantly as you please. We all followed suit and never did find out if that was a blue light being flashed or if it was just a mere reflection. ; )
So we're following Mo down this maze of interestingly curious county roads and find ourselves on gravel. Imagine that, with Mo and find a "goat path". Actually it wasn't challenging gravel, but I am not sure Koos was too pleased handling gravels two-up.
Me? I was ecstatic. That cop would've thrown the book at me because he wouldn't have gotten all of us, just me but that is, if, indeed that was him flashing his light and not a reflection. ; )
After a few more turns we found ourselves on US 58 just east of Damascus. Mo lead us down towards Shady Valley to introduce Koos to the Snake.
We grabbed dinner at the store there and I would suggest you not order their double burger unless you are seriously hungry. I ordered a single and it was HUGE! I'd never eaten there before so didn't know.
After lunch things got screwy! The idea was to head south towards Boone and then would break off there. However, as we pulled out of the store, Mo headed north. We all followed suit, but I was confused what was going on.
Mo pulls over into an empty parking lot, but Tim continued on. I pulled in behind Mo, then Koos rolls past. Mo takes back off but is at a crawl. I finally motor on around both he and Koos and get up on Tim's tail. We take off through there and don't see Mo and Koos again until we were stopped at a store and wondering why we were headed north. Mo and Koos rolled right on continuing north. We figured Mo has decided to hit 26 and start trying to get home as time was becoming a factor for him.
Tim and I plan to head back 421 and pick up 91 down to 321? I can't remember then into Boone where we would split company. By the time we got to 91, Tim motioned to stay on 421. I guess he was feeling the curves. He was too, because he checked out.
It was shortly after getting through Mountain City I started getting the "sleepy"s. I pulled up in front of him and ducked into a gas station parking lot and told him I was nodding. He agreed to hang out there for a bit, besides it would give the Sabre a chance to cool down a bit.
As we head out we say our good-byes as we are just above where we will be splitting off. He motions me to take 321 north. I thought that was wrong and as soon as I turned on it, I knew it was. That's okay I can get home a few different ways from here and it's all fun. 321 is fun and is a pretty run right next to the lake, so no worries.
I got on 19-E and turned south, figuring I would cut across Roan Mtn. but my eyes kept wanting to close, so I pull into a gas station and finish off my water. Feeling fatigued, and the fact that my knee was really beginning to hurt, I just wanted to be home at this point and was still a couple hours away yet.
The rest seemed to help, but at this point I had decided not to take the twisty route home. I found a nice 4 lane road with some traffic to help keep my mind busy and hopefully not nod off. It seemed to work and I rolled in about 7 PM after a couple more stops to keep away the nap bug.
I got home to the tune of about 1500 miles for the weekend. What an awesome time, thanks to all who came out and made it such.
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