Willville '14

There was an event planned for southern VA at a place called Willville Motorcycle Campground this past weekend. We used to hit this one every year but the last time we were there was about three years ago. 'Tis a shame too, as it is a *great* place to be.

Will (the owner) really has it going on! There is a bubbling creek that encloses the whole camping area. It is wonderful to be lulled to sleep to the sound of the water. I was looking forward to getting back there.

Phil headed this one up and picked the date and made an effort (as time allowed) to make maggots aware of it. Either timing was bad or the fact that it wasn't pushed down their throats led to a rather small showing.

My weekend began on Thursday evening as I figured I could go over to Asheville, grab some good beers and then I would be ready to leave on a direct path to Willville as soon as Melissa got home on Friday. So, I left here Thursday evening around 6:30 PM. Asheville is about 60-90 minutes away, depending on how fast you are hauling. I didn't really have the hammer down as I knew I had time. (Uh Oh! -- surely Ed just didn't say he had *plenty* of time!)

So I arrive in Asheville (and pass the bottle shop I intend to visit for stocking purposes) about 7:30. I need to find a Bank of America to avoid a convenience surcharge of a couple bucks from a different ATM (one of Dad's rules) and know there is one near Broadway, but was confident enough to not bother writing down the directions/address (Uh-Oh).

Well, sure enough, I don't find it. I drove around for a bit and finally pulled into a gas station when I knew it wasn't going to happen for me. The guy behind the counter just moved there and couldn't help me, but there was a guy on a scooter who "knows" where it is (why is "knows" in quotes?).

He gives me directions and I follow them. However, he told me to take a right when he likely meant for me to take a left. I took the right and wound up on the interstate. No good! I backtracked some and found where he *meant* for me to go -- as mentioned I should have made a left. Meh! no biggie.

Well, it kind of was! Yeah, I found the bank, but it was within a Merril Lynch office complex that locked their doors well before I got there and there was NO accessible ATM outside the building. So I have been looking for this stupid ATM for the last 40 minutes ... only to have to pay the convenience fee at ANOTHER ATM ANYHOW?!?! UGH! whatever!

So I pull what I need and know I will hear about it later. I walk over to the bottle shop. It is now 8:10. They closed at 8 PM. OMG!

I ... am ... PISSED! TEN FUCKIN' MINUTES! I was fine; had arrived in town in time, the shop was still open as I rolled by it. If I wasn't trying to save THREE FRIGGIN" DOLLARS, I would have made it!

This wouldn't be so big a deal except the ride to Willville from Newport, TN is 2 hours (via slab) versus the ride from Asheville being twice that; and all slab ... UGH!!!!! The whole idea of going on Thursday, as opposed to Friday, was supposed to save me two hours of slab. DAMMITALL ANYHOW!

Well I'm here may as well go to the bar for a beer .... or three! I did just that. I didn't get smashed. I had one, sat and chilled for a while and then had another.

The second just so happened to be an Old Rasputin (this is Melissa's favorite beer hands-down). Not only did they have Old Rasputin, but they had it on Nitro (Nitrogen --- which is waaaay creamier).

It was AMAZING! Heh. After that first sip, I looked at the glass and mumbled "I love you" (hell I didn't want anyone in the bar to KNOW I am a weirdo). I sloooowwwlly sipped that one. It was fantastic and made the wasted trip fade away. It also made me waaayy late getting home.

I had recently got my own cell phone, but not being used to that, I had left it at home and was unable to keep Melissa abreast of what was going on. I already had drank one beer and made sure I put some time between it and the second. This meant getting home much later than intended.

The first thing I told her upon arrival was "I'm sorry I left my phone. I am not used to having one." and then followed it up with "I had an affair tonight" (meaning the Rasputin beer -- that monk is beguiling, I tell ya!)

Her reply was "What bike did you ride?" without batting an eyelash. GOD, I love that woman!  

Anyway, we smoothed things over. I guess she is used to her dumbass husband. We also discussed since I am now two hours behind for Friday (my fault) that I may leave 2 hours prior to her getting home and Dad would just have to ... deal.

Friday comes and I leave on time, but wind up spending about an hour at the bottle shop trying to maximize what I  could get with what I could spend, as well as, spending time talking with the employees. I love talking beer, and they are very knowledgeable, so it makes it even easier to lose time. I figured on 30 minutes there -- already Ed is chasing clock; imagine that!

I wound up being about 90 minutes later than what I told Tim I would be, but I did stop and grab a bite which also took some time. I pull in figuring everyone is out at dinner and begin to set up camp. While doing so, Tim, Phil, Ed, and Ben walk up. Tim has a box of pizza with two slices saved for me. Sadly, I had eaten (and had texted him that I would because of the hour). Still, they saved me some -- maggots rock!

Adult beverages were consumed, and lies were told. The night faded too quickly.

Saturday morning they all wanted to grab breakfast, I skipped on that to opt for more sleep time. When we got ready to ride the obvious choice for a lead rider was Phil. Not only because he is faster than the rest of us, but also because he KNOWS the roads better than any of us.

Phil led a spirited pace on his little SRX 600cc Yammerhammer single, while the rest of us took turns trying to keep up. We tore up many miles of asphalt that did nothing but put smiles on our faces. It was twisty madness, I tell ya.

I thoroughly believe I live in motorcycle heaven. Honestly, 200 miles ANY direction out my door ... all good stuff! Phil put us on roads you won't find on a map, but had me asking "what was that road?" ALL ... DAY ... LONG! in hope of remembering it -- some of them I do remember, but finding them may not be so easy. It was an amazing time strafing our way along through the countryside.

We spent over an hour getting to a little restarurant/beer vendor just five minutes from his house. He lives about 20 minutes from Willville. Luckily, Jennifer had time to break away from her busy schedule to join us for what turned out to be an awesome lunch.

L to R: Phil, Tim, Ben, Ed, and myself (Photo courtesy of Phil Ross)

Phil has gotten rather familiar with his SRX. Keeping him in your sight is *always* a challenge, but he was nice enough to keep a pace that was something us mere mortals could hang with.

One road I do know, and one we often hit up when we are up there is VA-16. When we got to VA-16, I saw gravels on the road. 16 is KNOWN for it! Last time I went down, I was on this section of 16 -- and slid on gravel.

About 3/4 mile into it, sure enough, I hit some. The front wheel washed a bit and I and the bike skittered some across my lane. I had enough time to formulate "Not aga" ---- [in] ... but before the last half-syllable was formulated, the bike gained traction and we rolled on, albeit at a much more (too?) sane pace. I feel sorry for Ben, whom was behind me at the time. I kept expecting him to roll on past me since I was out of it -- sorry Ben.

Photo courtesy of Phil Ross

We got to an overlook and hung out for a bit and then planned our next move.

Photo courtesy of Phil Ross

When taking off I *tried* to make myself last. Ben took off shortly after Phil did once he noticed I wasn't going. However, Tim never went, so I did.

Tim got caught up speaking to the couple of dudes that came up while we were hanging out. No biggie! Tim is fast enough to catch any of us when he is ready.

I totally blew a right-hander and was *glad* no one saw it. I don't know what I was doing or thinking that occupied my attention, but it sure was not on the road itself.

It was a sharp right hand turn. I wasn't tired or anything, but I must've spaced out or something. The curve went right, I did not.

I was glad there was no oncoming traffic. I stopped with my front wheel JUST over the double yellow line. TOTAL BONEHEAD!

I went down the hill yelling in my helmet "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" I have NO idea what happened.

I just freaked a bit and the fact I cannot account for it really bothers me! I think I saw it turn deeper than I initially thought and tried to stop, instead of taking it, but am really unsure what exactly happened. Regardless, as a motorcyclist, you cannot do that! There's another withdrawal from the luck bucket.

We get to the next turnoff and Tim still hadn't caught up, so we waited for him. He showed up shortly after and we continued on. At this point, getting back to camp was a motivating factor.

Phil wicked up the pace a bit. We never made an illegal pass as I recall, and Phil was careful to ensure that if he passed, we all could.

We got to one point where that happened, and Tim was in "sweep" position. Phil, Ben, and myself got by this slower moving cage, but for whatever reason Tim did not follow suit. We are holding a steady pace, maybe not legal, but not crazy either. Tim is not in the mirror; minutes pass, and he still isn't!

Many more minutes pass. WTF?!? Then .... FINALLY .... I see his headlight as I was on a straight. YAY! I was getting worried. We were holding a "slightly" brisk pace, so for Tim to catch us, let's just say he needed to maintain a much more aggressive approach!

We stopped and grabbed dinner in Hillsville. By the time we got back to camp we had turned about 300 miles of twisty bliss on our odometers. FANTASTIC!

Only downside of the day is that I found that it had rained while we were gone ... HARD! Enough so that there was a puddle IN my tent where the wind must've blown the rain in and, as a result, my sleeping bag had gotten wet (only on one end, but still sucked!).

We spent the evening hanging out on Will's porch telling stories. Good times indeed!

We all met in town for breakfast Sunday morning. After which, Ed and Ben headed north. Before Phil, Tim, and myself mounted up to head back to camp, one of Phil's buddies showed up and we hung out for a bit. While chatting a 2009 Bandit 1250 rolled in for gas.

It was my bike, but better. It was clean and he had put some suspension mods on it. After some tire-kicking and socializing, we went back to Willville to break camp.

It is a little after 11 AM by the time we head out. Phil has decided to join Tim and I south on the BRP for a while before heading home, but he didn't want to lead.

Tim took the helm and immediately tried to lead us north on the Parkway. I honked my horn but he kept going. Phil and I found a shaded spot to wait for him to realize his mistake.

Sure enough, he returns and we all head south. Blue skies with little white, puffy clouds, good roads, and great company! What more can a man ask for?

Tim led another fun pace. Again, comfortable, but not crazy. We stopped at an overlook and took in the splendor that is the Blue Ridge mountains. Tim wanted to get a selfie of the three of us to send to his bride ....

Photo courtesy of Tim Schwab

Those mountains seem to go on forever!
Photo courtesy of Phil Ross

Tim knew of this little biker dive that served great food just up the road. I had a rheuben that was fantastic. The food was every bit as good as Tim said it was, and was only made better by the company. After lumch, we all parted company. Phil headed north, Tim went southeast, and I continued south on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

I kept a modest pace and only made legal passe all the way home. When I had the road to myself I would maintain about a 60-65 mph average. When in traffic, I just did whatever the vehicle in front of me was doing.

I took the BRP all the way into Asheville. My arse was quite sore by now and getting home had more appeal than taking the fun way, so interstate it was. I arrived home with another 300 miles on the clock and nearly 1,000 for the weekend.

What a great weekend! I thoroughly enjoyed myself. It's been a while since I had any significant saddle time, and any time spent with maggots is quality time. This was perfect!

After getting home, I was looking at the bike and thinking about what Phil had mentioned to me at the overlook on the BRP. He was talking about the depth of color in that other Bandit (basically alluding to how not clean mine is).


Sooo, I did something I rarely ever do ...I cleaned the bike. Here are pics of it in a clean state ...

It is not Mo Draper clean, but it is much better than it was.