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!
2 comments:
That same place on 16 got me as well. It was so odd breaking traction for no apparent reason! Yeah, there was visible gravel around, and I was watching for it. But this looked clean as I swung from coming out of the righty into the lefty. The front shot out and it must be from years of dirt riding, and God's providence, that my left foot smacked the pavement just enough to pop the bike up and maintain rubber down through the slide. It was an automatic response that happened without me applying conscious thought to it, and I was like wow - that was a close call. Good thing I didn't have to rely on my thought process. This is what Dave used to call "proprioception", a kind of muscle memory which he credited to saving his own bacon a time or two. This is where "Proprioceptor" came from that he stenciled onto his Sabre gas tank.
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