Senseless sensor

Many years ago, I used to ride a lot with the local chapter of the Southern Cruisers Riding Club. I have remained a member even though I no longer do much group riding. My style of riding has become much more aggressive to deal with the parade style riding that the SCRC maintains.

The group has changed a lot over the years as people come and go. I don't hardly know many of them anymore. However, I got an email detailing a Sunday ride to Tellico. I have friends there and figured I could ride with the group then split off and come up with a plan of my own from there.

I put out an email to the SOAR list to see if anyone wanted to meet up in Tellico. Kent replied that he could sneak off and join me. Sweet!

Saturday night before lying down for bed I reopened the email to remind myself of when and where we were meeting, only to find that I didn't pay attention to the date. Their ride is NEXT Sunday. Crap! Well it is nearly midnight now, and Kent and I were chatting earlier, but he had signed off for the night. Wonderful!

Still, I sent him a message in hopes he would get it prior to leaving. Tellico is a looong way for him and we could meet somewhere closer to his house and then formulate a plan from there. Either he wasn't asleep yet, or I woke him when I sent him a message letting him know how much an idiot I am.

He pinged me back with "I will call you in the AM". Works for me.

So morning rolls around and between Melissa's whimpy cell phone ringtone and a bit of sleep deprivation, neither of us even heard it. Kent had called around 6:30 as he said he would. It was now 8-something. Crap, Crap, Crap! Why do people tolerate me?

Knowing he is a gadget freak and has bluetooth and all going through his helmet speakers, I tried calling him back. No answer, so I left a message saying that if I didn't hear back from him by 9, I would see him in Tellico. He got in touch with me and we set up to meet at Hot Springs, NC. That's only 40 minutes from the house and where he was at was roughly 40 minutes from there too, so that worked out well -- on paper anyway.

I geared up and headed out. About 20 minutes into the ride, I come across a detour sign stating that the most direct, and quickest, way to Hot Springs is closed. The detour while not the quickest, was certainly the more fun way to go and with spare time I likely would have chose to go that way anyhow, but I am trying to be on time. Not gonna happen as the detour routes you about 15 miles further east only to turn back five miles west.

I had been behaving since I had time to get there without breaking (m)any laws. I had kept a nice 55 mph average, but with this detour I am now behind so I wicked it up a bit. Of course that little bit of miles wasn't enough to really make up any time despite a 20 mph average difference.

I show up and apologize to Kent and he assured me it was a non-issue. I imagine he expected me to not be on time. We came up with a tentative destination as he wanted to check in Damascus, VA (a bicycle haven) for some parts sources for his near-antique vintage bicycle he has had since he was a kid that he is wishing to restore. The route would take us through some sweet motorcycling roads, but then, here in motorcycle heaven we could really find them regardless of the direction chosen.

Anyway, we set out to hit NC-212/TN-352. This is a great little run along the river in a low-lying shaded area with some really sweet curves, then it climbs a mountain with plenty of turns but they are usually littered with gravel. Then on the TN side, the gravels disappear to reveal a nicely manicured fun mix of lefts and rights all stacked together. Fun stuff! We get to a stop sign and, with a wry smile Kent says, "That didn't suck!"  Yep, hard to take! (grin)

When we were doing the routing, Kent noticed that US 321 up near Watauga Lake looked fun and I told him it was a nice run with good views of the lake and some fun, but not technical twisties. So, since it was along the way, we decided to include that. The roads between TN-352 and US 321 were basically connectors and nothing to write home about.

321 was nice and most of the traffic we encountered was easily dispatched. We stopped in Mountain City to top off his camelback and to grab an affordable "healthy" lunch at Subway. At that point, he suggested I take the lead for a bit.

Really?!? You want me to go first on the Snake? Damn! such a hard life!  ; )

We headed up towards Shady Valley and just before hitting the Snake (a -really- fun 15? mile stretch or so of some tight twisties) some guy on a bike coming the other way held his left hand up and did a counterclockwise circular rotation. I took this to be "rollers" as in cops, either with radar or working an accident.

With this "knowledge" I kept a really sedate pace through there, but never ONCE saw a cop. Grr! What really sucked is we had a completely free run of this road -- on a Sunday -- in July! After a few miles, I decided that I misinterpreted his signal and wicked it back up a bit. Man! I DO love this road.

We passed the store and went on a little further as it is twisty on both sides of the store. Shortly thereafter, we turned back around but before taking off to re-run it, Kent mounted up his GoPro camera to take some video.

Off again, and back to the fun! This run wasn't as uninhibited though as we encountered some traffic, but it was dispatched as the opportunities became available.

From the Snake we headed on into Damascus to a bike shop only to find out that the guy there basically said "Good luck!" as he knew of nothing to recommend. Kent quipped "I came all the way up here from Simpsonville, SC to get that answer?"  Heh!

 This was as far as we planned out a route. So Kent grabbed a quarter and flipped it and let that determine our route. We either were going to head back and run the Snake again (YAY!) or we could head east out of Damascus along US 58 which is fun, too. Again motorcycle heaven allows many choices!  ; )

So 58 it is! We were rolling along and having a great time. I had my one and only pucker moment on one of those curves though.

Going into a right hand turn (with a clear sight line all the way through) I think I was looking too far ahead in the turn and not paying enough attention to where I was. It was a slightly off-camber curve and upon realizing this, laid the anchor down a bit as I didn't feel comfortable entering at my current speed.

I felt the bike wiggle a bit and I wasn't comfortable leaning over at that point. So I went into it rather straight until I scrubbed off enough speed to take the turn with comfort. I didn't cross the yellow, but came damn close. No harm, no foul, but I sure backed off a bit until I regained some composure.

Then it was another connector, some unnumbered road that had 3 different names and wasn't on my map, but WAS on Kent's GPS. We were headed to VA-194. This looked good on the GPS but was a letdown of sorts.

This took us to NC-88. I've been on 88 before and it's a nice, sedate run with plenty of non-technical curves. The main thing is, is that it is largely untraveled. It is quite serene.

My fuel gauge has been screaming for a while now but there just has been NO gas stations. We get to the stop sign at 321 and I tell him I need fuel. "Didn't you fuel when I did?" .... "Yeah, but I have no reserve and am not interested in finding out how badly I need it" ....  he nodded and plugs the nearest gas station in and off we go. Of course, it's closed ... so long that the pumps have been removed and grass growing through the asphalt. Grr!


I make it to the station and it only takes 3.7 gallons. WTF? The sensor starts warning you waaaayyy too early!


We still hadn't formulated a route, so now was a good point to figure out where we were headed next. He suggests a road I had never been on going over Sugar Mtn. in NC toward Linville, so we can hook onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. Well twist my arm!

The only caveat being that the last time he was on it, it was under construction. He said it may still be under construction and that there are two ways to find out, we can either look it up or just go find out. Well, part of motorcycling is the adventure of exploring, so we decide on the latter. Yep, still under construction.

By now that torture rack of a seat is really wearing on my ass! I am hurting -- no amount of wiggling around searching for another position offered any relief. Tough it out I kept telling myself.

Soon enough we are on the BRP. Love this road! The vistas of the mountains, the nice curvy road, the lack of stop-n-go, all of it. Only thing is, that the lack of stop-n-go does not offer you a chance to get off your ass much.

He was fighting the same problem so we made a point to stop a few times. One of them, Kent said "We aren't getting anywhere looking at the bikes" but it was another 5 minutes before we left as neither of us were anxious to sit back down.

There was very little traffic on the BRP so we were allowed to set a comfortable pace. About 60-70 mph is the perfect speed for that road on a motorcycle. Now, I'm not saying we were running that, just that that is the perfect speed for that road, IMO.

We discussed possibly stopping in Asheville and heading separate ways from there. I asked what our ETA was for that thinking if we still had enough light I might run the BRP the rest of the way seeing as I have never run the section from Asheville to Cherokee. It is the section of the BRP closest to me, and I have run every mile of the road except that part.

Despite sore asses, we bypassed Asheville and continued on. I don't know if my musing affected that or not. I certainly enjoy his company but this is putting him further from home. He asked if I wanted to go to the highest point. Sure, I don't care, we're on bikes, it ain't rainin' ... I'm good! let's roll!

We wound our way there racing the setting sun ....

We finally make it and Kent asked me to get in front of the sign so he could waste digital media with a pic or two ....

 (at least the phoslite works)







or three ...

I informed him that once again, my gas gauge was screaming and was as far as I have ever pushed this tank. I am a bit worried at this point. It's nearly dark and I definitely don't want to run out of gas.

We got off the BRP in Waynesville (at the 23/74 exit) and headed towards a gas station. By the time we hit one I am showing almost 200 miles on the tank. I insert the card in the reader to find it declined. WTF?!? there's money in the bank, what's going on? Tried again .... nada!

Kent hands me a 20 and says "Catch me later on that" Maggots rock! I don't know what I would've done had he not as I had $3 cash in my pocket. I might have made it home on that but wasn't sure. The tank would only take 3.9 gallons. That means I *still* had a gallon left and the gauge had been flashing for at least 30 miles (so that is at least 1 1/2 gallons + that it starts saying "get gas" -- yeesh!)

We parted ways there as I headed north on 276 to I-40 and he kept on going west on 23/74. I got home with 532 miles on the odometer for the day and 14 hours after leaving. I know Kent had over 600 and was gone for a few hours more.

It was a great day and I always enjoy Kent's company. Thanks buddy for joining me (and bailing me out). Good times, good times!

hot n sweaty with a side of "oh yeah!"

Last night I hit up a show. I had seen all three bands on the bill before. Oddly, I wasn't going for the headline act and if it wasn't for the other two bands on the bill, probably would not have gone at all.

I have seen the band Kyng 3 times now, all in Knoxville, each time at the Valarium. The Valarium is a great venue for a show, but it's just insanely HOT! There are fans but they are mounted so high they do little to circulate any air. Anyway, Kyng puts on an excellent show and it was the main reason that both Sean and I wanted to go.

Kyng is a talented trio from California. Without a doubt, one of the most amazing drummers I have ever had the opportunity to see bang the skins. Sean described him as an octopus. It sure seems like he has eight arms! and they are flailing about at a wicked rate. My focus was drawn to him throughout the show. What an amazing talent! The bassist and guitarist/vocalist are also very good, but the drummer is just phenomenal.

They had a great set, but being the opening band, it was over all too quickly. Being the third time seeing them, I am getting quite familiar with their songs. I have also heard them get some love on satellite radio, so that is good. I would like to see them do well.

After their set, I made a point to hit up the merch booth and grab their CD and do the meet-n-greet thing (something I *rarely* do). Cool buncha guys!

Up next was the band Fair to Midland. I have seen these guys once before. I have one of their albums so am familiar with them. They are ... hmm ... ODD! No other way to describe them. Talented, but odd!

The vocalist began the show by grabbing the mic off the stand with his teeth, raising his arms and screaming into the microphone (which he would do often throughout the show). Whereas my focus was on the drummer for Kyng, the vocalist and his epileptic antics demanded my attention for FTM. I have said it before (last time I saw them) ... he is a fucknut! What an odd duck! Entertaining to watch though.

They really brought down the house. They were allowed a nice, long set and just rocked out the whole time. It was a much better set than the first time I had seen them. About midpoint of their set, I am just drippin' in sweat ... and *stinkin'*! Aside from the stinkin' part, that is a good thing.

When their set was over, I needed some water and then Sean and I went outside to get some "air" in hope that the night air would be a bit cooler. Not so much! there seemed to be no break from it.

Then 10 years finally took the stage. I had seen them a few years back in Nashville. They were the headline band on the second stage. This was just before they were signed to a national deal. Their set at that show was okay, but since they are a local band, I was curious to see them play in Knoxville.

Sean and I were content, and could have left at any point. Neither of us are big 10 years fans, but decided to stay since he didn't have to work this morning. The crowd responded well, but I just wasn't feeling it.

After the "throwdown" of Kyng and Fair to Midland, 10 years was anti-climatic. It wasn't a bad show, but it was like they didn't belong on the bill. Their music is a bit more melancholic than the other two and while it was a good set, it just didn't match up to the earlier performances in my mind.

Again, I went for the two opening bands, so bias and preference certainly factor in here. What really shocked me is that a mosh pit got started for 10 years. A mosh pit? Really?!? Where was this for the other two acts? The style of the other two bands was more apropos for moshing.

I wasn't so much shocked there was a pit for 10 years, as I was that there hadn't been one going all night previously. Meh!

The pit was pretty active, too. Security came over and had to either lecture or just remove some of the bad apples. Again for 10 years?

It was a great show and although 10 years did a good job and put on a good show, they just didn't "fit" the bill. The other two acts overshadowed their performance, in my opinion. Man! I love live shows in a small venue.

I did my weigh-in this morning to find that I had sweat off the two pounds needed to get me to the 20 down mark. Now, I am not even halfway to where I want to be, but am tickled to have dropped off that 20. I put two of my homebrews in the fridge for celebratory sipping this evening. I haven't tried these yet, but the last time I brewed it, it turned out pretty well.

week of weakness ...

WEAKNESS, indeed! I think the last I wrote here was after having that great run with Phil that left my ass in severe pain. That one beer at Phil's favorite local pub started the excuse to drink a few other times. Of course, Phil sending me home with three brews he bought at the store and told me "you should try this!" really put the kabosh on any discipline i MAY have had!

So anyway, the Sunday after the ride I drank a Little Sumpin' Sumpin' (no really, that's what it's called) with dinner and followed with another beer for dessert. The Sumpin' Sumpin' was better than I expected and actually pretty good. Gained weight (oh and I did on Sunday's weigh-in as well)!

Monday evening, had a beer that he sent in a can. I typically stray from canned beer, but coming from Phil I knew it would be good. It was a Deviant Dale's ... OH MY! that was really, really good! Gained weight!

Tuesday, I had company and so I drank a couple of my homebrews. Again, gained weight!

Wednesday, I had the last of what he gave me with dinner. One more beer, one more day of gaining weight!

By Thursday and Friday, I was out of everything I had stocked cold. Yet, still gained.

On Father's Day Megan gave me a ticket to the Knoxville Brewfest. I wanted to go last year, checked the prices, and decided I didn't want to go *that* bad. Megan pulled the trigger and got me the ticket. I did really good, I think.

I know I stopped my gut reaction which was a look of constipa .... errr ... consternation followed with an emphatic "WHY?!?!?" heh, I am on a no-beer diet and I get tickets to this. I suppose with that in mind, I allowed myself a beer every night figuring the week was shot to hell anyway. I continued doing the normal exercise ritual but there's no denying beer's toll on the scale.

While my reaction may not have been good, I *know* it could have been worse. So it is now Saturday. I went to the brewfest but had I gone alone I would have only been able to drink 3 beers over 3 hours. I conned Megan into going and we would grab a Designated Driver bracelet for her. Nope, when we got there, it was cash only (who carries cash anymore?) and it was $20 -- for her to walk around bored to tears -- $20!

Luckily it was in a part of the town that had plenty to do within walking distance of where I was. She opted to go read a book in the shaded patio of a nearby coffee shop. With the heat of the day, she probably fared much better that way.

Meanwhile, I set about keeping my palate busy. A smorgasbord of beers -- and many I have never seen available locally before. WOOT! Got to try many tasty, tasty brews and have a few new favorites or "what to look out for" selections to pursue.

Megan and I closed out the evening by sharing a pizza at Barley's and I chased it down with a couple Ranger's. Again, gained weight, but only a pound so that wasn't too bad considering the consumption level (maybe a six pack worth at the fest and 2 more pints at Barley's).

So that week off the wagon cost me nearly 6 pounds. Here it is 13 days after that first beer and I am ALMOST BACK to that same weight.

I had a beer a couple nights ago with dinner and the next day's weigh in was 2 lbs. down. Cool! bottle that up for me folks, I can work with that!  ; )

Sorrie Assis

That's Warner Brothers' Latin talk (think Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote) for "sore ass", and let me tell ya I have it! I got the Bandit out yesterday to do a scouting mission of the area we will be holding our next east coast SME at.

The plan was to meet Phil Ross at the campground at 10 AM. This required me leaving at 7 AM. I was up and moving in time and got the bike loaded and on the road on time. What a novelty.

I slabbed it all the way up on 81. Typical, uneventful, slab boredom ensued. I showed up at the campground and met the owner, asked the questions I had which were promptly answered, and waited on Phil ... and waited ... and waited.

He was fashionably late. Pair that up with me being fashionably early, and that wait seemed eternal.   ; )  When he showed I jokingly asked him if he were on "Ed time" and he gave me the one word reply "Philometers!" with a wry smile. Heh!

He had some work-related paperwork to fax so we headed into town. As we left the campground and came  back to BlackLick Rd. he points to the left and states, this is where it just starts getting fun and then we went right.

WTF?!?  that wasn't right ... at all. He would atone for it though!

Once his paperwork had been sent we were free to formulate a plan. I had a route set up that I was going to take had I been alone, which now I wasn't. Phil said it looked good but was "intimidating". Wow! if Phil thinks it's intimidating, it *must* be a really good route!

He talked me into heading back to Blacksburg so we could lunch with Jennifer. I haven't seen her in a very long time, and he knows the roads much better than I, so it didn't take much convincing.

We were on I-77 briefly and then hit a slew of roads I would likely never find again. The route to Blacksburg that we took you will not find on a map. We were on route 60* (not giving away Phil's secret roads) and just swishing back and forth through the countryside when I noticed in the mirror that we picked up a guy on a vintage boxer twin (an R100 if I recall). He was scooting that piece of old technology along quite nicely and kept with the PC 800 Phil was on and my Bandit1250 fairly well.

We came to a stop sign and briefly discussed where we were going and where he was headed. Phil told him our itinerary and that we could lead him right to where he was going but a little more pleasant a route. Not sure what he had had in store without Phil's intervention, but the very next road we hopped on was a BLAST!

VA-73* is FANTASTIC! It parallels a little river/creek and has some fairly complex curves. I am screaming "WOO HOOs" in my helmet at this point. Such fun!

We soon parted with our Beemer company and continued on through some more great roads until we got into Blacksburg. We went across the Va. Tech campus. I have never been on campus before and was impressed with the old buildings that were still standing. What a beautiful campus.

Jennifer never answered her cell phone, so Phil and I had dinner without her. He took me to his second favorite "beer store" that also serves as a bar/restaurant. We both had a cheeseburger and a draft of Highland's Little Hump Ale. The beer was great and the cheeseburger was good too, but the best part of it was the beer store itself.

We don't have beer selection here in Newport, TN. Plenty of NASCAR beer, but not really much in the way of a selection of "choice" beers. The selection was impressive, but the guy who works there, a friend of Phil's, gave me the "tour" complete with explanations like "this is the best Porter we have" and "this brewery was bought out by these folks" etc. Phil had to pry me away from the tour as my food was "getting cold". Ah well, my beer was getting warm too.

Phil insisted on picking up the tab and while we were there grabbed a few brews for later in the evening upon his return home. Thanks for lunch Phil and the beer as he slipped me a few "must try" beers.

By now, Jennifer had called Phil and explained that her phone had been off because she was in the theater but was home now. We headed over there and had an all too short visit, but it was also good to get back on the bikes too.

We hit some awesome stuff. At this point the roads were not numbered and many didn't have street names posted. I can tell you it was more good stuff.

Phil was in the lead, but all day I had been able to keep him in sight. I noticed he had been hitting the brake prior to entering turns quite a bit. This is unlike Phil.

It gave me time to think about how I approach taking a turn. I typically will tap the rear brake when entering a right turn until i can see through it, just to prepare myself for anything that may crop up like bad road conditions (gravels, etc.), forest rats, or cell-phone-talking idiots half in my lane.

I have rode with many folks and I notice that hitting that brake is not practiced widely. I guess it is mostly my paranoia that has me doing it. I got to thinking how much of riding is blind faith and how much is not tempting fate. Funny the things you think about when just riding along.

At the next gas stop we addressed his tentativeness entering the turns. He said part of it had to do with the bias ply tires (Phil and his radials!) and part of it was that the bike doesn't want to turn.

We proceeded on through Indian Valley and hit another road that bordered the New River (which I think we crossed about 5 times during this ride). This was great! Again I am screaming in my helmet.

Although one of those curves on Copper -something- Road nearly bit me. I was entering a left turn a little hot and went to scrub off a little speed and the rear wheel skittered momentarily. When it did, for whatever reason, I fixated on the grassline. I definitely thought I was going to crash and then either experience or luck took over and I refocused on the road, leaned her over and proceeded on.

We stopped at a "Shot Tower", which is a large stone cylindrical building where they use to make lead shot. The hot molten globs would be dropped down this shaft and form into perfect spheres before dropping into a pool of water below to cool. This was one of three in the nation that he knew of that were still standing. Pretty cool stuff!

While we were stopped, I jokingly stated "I finally figured out how to keep Phil Ross in sight. Put him on a PC 800 and me on a Bandit 1250". He chuckled, but I think he took offense because I didn't see much of him the rest of the afternoon.   ; )     I get the sense he was also getting the feel of how to wrestle that PC into the turns because when I could see him, he was no longer braking prior to entering the turns.

Eventually we wound our way back over near the campground and took the "fun" section that went the opposite way from where we headed out hours before. Sadly, the sun was low on the horizon and there were gravels in the middle of the lane and strips in the asphalt that had been redone and were akin to speed bumps. The layout was great, but between the road surface and not being able to see due to the low sun, I took it easy most of the way up.

He was stopped at a lookout at the top and we took a minute or two to take in the views. Such beautiful country. I love Appalachia!

As we were mounting back up, he said he had run his adrenals enough and was going to slow down. If he ever tells you this, don't believe him. He was gone!

I had been wanting to run route 16 but he had said earlier he didn't want to take that bike up 16. However, we were soon on it and winding our way up the mountain ... until we got stuck behind a line of 2 cars and a pickup truck going at a snail's pace.

Phil knows the road and picked his spot and passed all 3 in 4 turns. The first few were easy "Esses" and offered sight lines, but that last one looked to be a blind right and he took it.

No way in Hell, I would have had the balls to make that move (again Blind Faith vs. Tempting Fate). I found a spot where I could knock off two of them but a corner was approaching so I ducked back into the right lane in between the lead car and the pickup  that was causing the backup. Another turn later and I was back to playing. Man! that road is a hoot!

Phil was waiting at an overlook near the end of the fun section and I queried him on his pass. He told me he had a sight line on that last pass, but I don't see how. Anyway, it was all good, we both got to play and neither of us died.  ; )

It was near dusk now and we got to a gas station in Tazewell, VA and hung out for a little bit enjoying each other's company before heading in separate directions. Thanks Phil for letting me tag along and leading such a GREAT ride!

The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful as it was all four lane in the dark. I got home around midnight and had logged just a tick over 600 blissful miles for the day.

That stock seat, though, is a BRICK! After 60 miles my ass is screaming. After doing ten times that amount the imprints of the Bandit's frame rails become embedded in your ass! OUCH! It's still a bit tender 26 hours later.

Hate

Hatred is a poison-filled seed
Resentment is the light and water that nourish it
As the seed grow it eats away at your very soul

It grows until nothing remains
Upon reaching maturity
You are immersed in its darkness

The darkness propagates
But the soil is lifeless
As are you

garage follies

Sometime last week the belt flew off of Dad's zero-turn riding mower while I was mowing. I promptly took it to the garage and parked it there, figuring I would just replace the belt. Then I got to thinking about it and having some oil in the garage decided I would also do an oil change and other normal maintenance items that have been far from regularly performed and way overdue.

When I went to pull the blades (to sharpen them) I noticed they were bent -- BADLY!! I showed them to Dad and he decided we would just get new ones. While there, may as well get a new belt and oil filter too.

Sooo ... I went ahead and drained out the oil, pulled the oil filter -- which wasn't easy. Partially because where it was mounted and partially because it had been on there so  ... damn ... long ... it took a Herculean effort to remove it. I eventually wrestled it from its grip and set it off in a pan on the workbench to drain.

Then i went about removing the blades. This was no problem at all. Then we went to get parts for it next day.

That was, as I stated, sometime last week. My sorry ass hasn't gotten back out there since. Well until last night anyway.

So I went ahead and replaced the blades with new ones, slipped on the new belt, lowered it back down off the jack stands, repacked the bearings with grease, and filled the oil. Started up the mower to cycle through the filter and went to check the level ........ only to find a large pool of fresh oil all over the floor. Damn! some idiot (me) forgot to put the filter back on. DOH! (or should that be "DOPE!")

Grabbed the filter and installed it, refilled the oil, started up the mower again  to cycle oil through the filter. No problems this time, until I noticed on the bench the *new* filter (that I forgot we purchased) sitting there. I am not pulling it out and going through this again, so we have an oil filter for the next change, I guess.

With that done, I moved the mower out of the way, and went over to grab some sawdust from the lathe area to  sop up the spilled oil. And there! ... there! ... right where I was looking for it before! ... was the live center spur that goes in the tailstock of my lathe that I had been tirelessly scouring through the sawdust to find not two weeks ago.

It was in open ... plain ... sight! There is no way that could've been there before! While I am bummed I didn't see it when i was LOOKING for it, I was glad to find it. It's not an expensive piece but is critical for spindle turning and rough turning.

Anyway, I put it back in the tailstock, grabbed some sawdust and cleaned up my mess. With that done, I went to start the mower and move it out of the garage back to the shed where it lives. It started right up, but when I went to back it up, it didn't move. WTF?!?

There are sliding tabs on the back frame that you can use to disengage the transmission so that you can push it around if it is not running or you just don't feel like firing it up to move it a couple feet. It is light enough (maybe 200-300 lbs) to roll around.

I checked those and they were where they should be to ride the mower. The linkage for these tabs actuated the shifter piece that engages/disengages the rear differential. The belt was good and tight. WTF!

I decided I would jack it up and remove the wheels to see if the axles moved if there were no load upon them. Sure enough! both wheel hubs were turning. Hmmm .... I slapped the wheels back on, let the jack down, and tried to see if it would move.

Voila! weird! I have no idea why it didn't just do that to start with. I messed with nothing when I removed the wheels. It just decided to start working. Okie dokie. We are all set to mow again I guess.

Next garage project(s) -- I need to bleed the brakes on my Bandit and the KLR has developed a popping upon deceleration that I get to chase down. Oh boy!

Fighting temptation ...

The group that I occasionally ride with was putting on a Bar-B-Q for all who were interested in attending. The guy that oversees/founded the group is a really great guy and I do enjoy his company. He is quite a character.

I checked with Melissa and she was free today so it was arranged that someone would be there to attend to Dad. We tried to get Isaac to come over so that Melissa could go with me, but he couldn't bring himself to make the sacrifice.

Anyway, I have not gotten my lazy ass out to the garage to bleed the brakes on Cloud9, so I would be taking Ms.Chif -- besides, it was her turn. And she let me know it! She was cranky and didn't want to crank over. It took a few minutes and then the engine finally fired up. I think she was telling me that she doesn't like to be ignored.

I had set up a route that included Parson's Branch. I have heard about this road before and had never tried it. It is a one-way gravel road that stretches from Cades Cove and terminates onto the Dragon -- right about in the middle. Where the cookout was being held was not far from the entrance of Cades Cove and also was not too far from the Dragon, so this seemed like the perfect time to hit it -- especially since I had the KLR.

I took the near direct path -- not BECAUSE it was the direct path, but because the route had some nice roads that I enjoy riding. This is the route I usually take when riding to Tellico. It included River Road (TN-73) and I really enjoy this one because it meanders along a winding river for most of it and is in the shade.

The problem with this road is that it is almost always riddled with traffic. Today, though, although it was kind of busy, the slower motorists tended to pull over when a line of traffic started forming behind them. That's the way it should be. That is why TDOT spent the money to put them there. It's about time some folks are getting it!

After River Road it was Cades Cove. Now typically, I steer clear of this area because it is nothing but a slow loop of rubber-necking tourists ooh-ing and aaah-ing over the deer and other wildlife that are in sectioned off acreage. It's basically like a large zoo but with some room for the wildlife to roam. It's nice ... ONCE! but going <10 mph on an 11 mile loop is no fun to me.

However, the only way to get to Parson's Branch is to endure Cades Cove. I finally got to the turnoff for Parson's Branch and was able to wick it up a bit with some confidence of no oncoming traffic since it is a one-way road. It's gravel, but it's pretty easily navigated.

I am zooming along when I see dust up ahead. I close in on two vehicles stirring it up and am motioned around them as I was going faster than they cared to. Cool, I can do that!

Most of the road was pretty tame (compared to what I had been running on that bike) except for this one long climb. It has rained on and off the past few days and yesterday we had a really good storm move through. Where the gravels were thinned out, it was a bit muddy. I pinned the throttle, stood on the pegs, and went for it. No problem there either.

There were a few water crossings but they all were about an inch deep at most and running over concrete so there was no need to stop and survey the best line -- just go! I was hitting most of these crossings at about 20 mph and just getting my feet wet.

After the second crossing there was a little trail branching off to the left that had a mudhole at the entry point and then wound off into the woods and went ...... SOMEwhere! I looked at it ... HARD!

I wanted to take it. I really did! and if I had ANYone with me, I would have. I was a bit intimidated to try it as I was alone and without a cell phone should anything happed. So it will have to wait until another time. 


I kept on going and the road has some switchbacks and climbs and descends and a few more water crossings and I'm just having about as much fun as I can on a gravel road zooming along.


Then I saw the asphalt and knew I was at the Dragon. Already?!? That road could've been twice the length. I turn north on 129 and again, am scooting right along.

This is my second time doing the Dragon on the KLR and I tell ya, I am loving it! This bike is an absolute hoot to wring out.

The first time on it, I oscillated between 1st and 2nd gear and was wringing the snot out of it. This time, I was going between 2nd and 3rd gear and probably averaged 55 mph on that road.

I had the road to myself. There was no one going northbound ... NO ONE until I came across one slow rider and he must have seen me coming and slowed down more and waved me by. This must be my day! I happily obliged!

I was hitting the corners in a very good rhythm and got my picture taken a few times. I cannot wait until they are posted. I was feeling it. Here are a few links to some of the vendors out taking pictures ...

(hit the next button to get to the next photo)

 6 shots (446-452)

10 shots (1468-1476)  and 10 more shots (1477-1485)   -- these guys really liked me   ;j

and a botched corner .... 6 shots (897-902)     at 900 you can see i am (or at least part of me is) clearly on the wrong side of the yellow line. DOH!

Next up, was a trail I had found on Googlemaps that was marked "trail" and it paralleled the Foothills Parkway. I figured I could ride that "trail" and then get on over to the Parkway and then connect to 321 and head over to the cookout. Not so much!

I found the "trail" just fine. It was a power line servicing trail and ... it was gated off. Bummer, the start of it looked pretty fun -- a rocky climb. I was studying it trying to see if there was a way around it and decided against the idea. Good thing too, because there was a cop up the road and probably within sight of that "trail".

I turned around and picked up the Foothills Parkway. Not a bad thing, this is a fun little stretch too with awesome views of the terrain below. There isn't much to tell about the rest of the ride. I got to the cookout and hung out with some folks and grabbed dinner and even was able to resist some of the yummy desserts that had been brought. After everyone left, Dan, his wife, and another guy hung out for a half hour just shooting the bull and then we all headed to our respective homes.

I only logged about 170 miles, but it was good to have some seat time and to get to hang out with Dan again. It was funny, at one point he said, "Wow! Twice in one year" (meaning we seen each other twice so far) and then followed with "Oh wait this is the third time!" It was good to see him and his wife again and to see some others and meet a few more.

Most of all it was good to get out and burn some fuel and arrive home safely --- AND without any grief from Dad upon my arrival.