Linc
Linc
Hey gang, sorry I've waited so longs to post this, but work and craziness back home has kept me pretty busy since I got back from this trip!
Early this spring this trip was planned as a 2-week trip from Michigan to Seattle on 2 bikes with my roomie and a best friend... wow, how things change! My roomie sold his '05 FZ6 with a Touring setup due to a job cutback and budget pinching, best friend decided she couldn't get enough time off work to go that long, and I didn't want to commit to that long of a trip by myself as the furthest I'd ventured from home was 350 miles and back.
Trip changed drastically to an East Coast color tour including connecting with family and friends on the way and hitting the Blue Ridge Parkway at the southern end of my journey.
What it turned into is shown here...to the best of my abilities to recreate my route. Need to pick up a handy dandy Spot GPS next trip!
Preparations for departure included:
Late September, 6:00AM, 34 degrees and one packed motorcycle... it begins! I head out for Grayling, MI and breakfast at Shirley's Cafe near Bear Lake, (amazing food and very fair pricing) not realizing just how cold 31 degrees really is. Thanks to freakish N. Michigan temperature swings I was treated to a 40 degree temp increase that first day! By the time I arrived at breakfast my hands were in pain, wrists could barely move, and my neck had a thin red line where wind snuck between my helmet and jacket collar. Not a great start to the trip, I realize I had better leave this cold behind or do a little more shopping down the road! Thawing out with a delicious plate of home-cooked breakfast and hot coffee... made even better 'cause my buddy Brandon drove that far to have breakfast with me! He was bummin' as he was supposed to come with me this trip, except for the fact he no longer had a bike!
Pushing on down the road, I pick up a set of shake-n-bake hand warmers that quickly bring my numb digits to a comfortable zone once again. Finally, 640 miles later (and 68 degrees Fahrenheit!) I arrive at the Bellafonte KOA campground in Eastern Pennsylvania. I can't say enough about all the KOAs I stayed at, fair pricing, courteous staff, and the packet they left for me (after hours campers stop and pick up a packet at the office) always had good directions to my tent site.
Anyway, 640 miles in the saddle had left me sore and stiff... although my butt was totally fine thanks to the Russell Daylong. It's like some weird Voodoo, I was such a skeptic but damn, that thing is WORTH the $$$ after your first couple looooong days in the saddle. It really is a "daylong" comfort that's hard to describe. Anyway, back to the campsite. This Thursday night begins the first of many after-dark tent construction and campsite creations... most of which take place in the rain. I get into a routine, drive in late, leave the headlights on while I pitch camp, cover the bike with my (now empty) drybags, then hang my wet outer gear in the vestibule of my tent. Crawl inside tent and do all my "dry stuff". Set up bag, sleeping pad, have a snack, read, then fall asleep to the sound of leaves rustling and rain pattering on the tent.
Not what most people would desire after a long day of riding, but sore and miserable as I was there was a strong sense of adventure and a little bit of badass-ness that was undeniable. Camping is only as fun as you expect it to be, and only you can choose: This became very clear the 2nd night of strong, steady rain when all I felt like was a hot shower and hotel. My attitude shifted in the morning when I slunk out of my small 3-man tent to see a cloudy, grey dawn all around me... revealing a forest of 40' RVs with Jeeps and Kias towed behind them. 2 middle aged couples gingerly stepped through the muddy mess that was the driveway, both walking small puffy mop-dogs while wearing rain gear and holding massive golf umbrellas.
As I stood there looking at $250K Prevost, Bluebird, and Monarch motorhomes (no, scratch that... motorcoaches), I suddenly felt very satisfied! I was the ONLY tent in the entire park! HOOAH! I took their very curious looks, packed up with pride and perhaps a bit of elitism, and patted my trusty Feejer on the tank as she rumbled to life and prepared to ride down the muddy driveway... yep! Camping IS fun!
After rolling out of PA and heading into NY state, I began to think I'd left the rain showers behind me as sunny skies and open roads made my keep an eye on my Valentine. That smooth motor just begs to be worked out, NY state troopers don't find it funny when you're explaining why you thought 90 was safe and prudent. (and that was in a car, so I expect to get no respect on a bike!)
After fighting the traffic between CT and NY state, I finally broke free from the mess and made it up to my friend's house in NH where it began to sprinkle. Rolling my bike in the garage, I figured the rain would pass in time for my midday run down to CT the next day. I spent a relaxing evening catching up with my buddy and had a great dinner at a little downtown pub, then a hot shower to loosen my muscles. Slept like a babe and woke up at 7AM ready to have breakfast and hit the road.
------------ KaBOOOOM!
------------
That was what I woke to, a concussive thunder blast and shook the house. Fantastic. Decided to forgo leaving for awhile, ended up helping him change the soft top on his 4-door Wrangler to the hard top for winter, all while working in a stead rain. Started to really worry about whether I could leave that day at all. By noon the thunder had passed and forecast called for steady rain the next 36 hours, so suck it up and and don the rain gear.
Oh my God... I have never driven in harder rain in ANY vehicle..! All the way down 95, 495, past Hartford and into South Windsor, CT it poured like Noah had just finished the ark. I was cruising about 65-70 since I had to stay away from the other vehicles as their spray was so heavy it obscured all my forward visibility. Around 2 hours into my 5 hour drive my pants gave up the battle and my crotch exploded like I'd been on a 12 hour drinking binge and peed myself. :dribble: What a feeling, cold rainwater filling your armored jeans from the inside out... steadily soaking you from butt to feet then filling your boots. First time for everything I guess, soon after my Jacket gave up the fight and started reaching its saturation point.
By the time I reached my cousin's house around 8:00 I was completely soaked, my Shoei Qwest had water running INSIDE the helmet through the vents, my gloves were so soaked I couldn't feel the grips anymore, and both my SENA SMH10 headset and Garmin had quit working.
I didn't take any pics that day as it was pretty damn wet the whole way and I didn't want to risk soaking my cameras in the neverending downpour.
Stayed the 4th and 5th days with family, catching up and sharing memories together... good times and even better as the rain started to pass and clouds returned, which I can totally handle!
Next I headed over to Newport, Rhode Island to pick up my friend from back home as she flew out to join me for a couple days of riding. Once again, I ran into light rain which I ducked mostly by tucking behind my fairing and raising the shield all the way up. She was a very trusting girl to head out with me in a strange riding area, brooding clouds on the horizon, with no rain gear packed for her other than a rain shell jacket. BTW, if you have a woman you like to ride with... a heated seat will win you MAJOR points as toasty buns mean a happy pillion!
Touring along the coast we saw many small villages, huge homes, and more horses than I thought you could fit in a state as small as RI!
Of course, with all that driving in the cold rain... a little visit to touristy Newport was required! We found a little waterfront coffee shop called"The Coffee Grinder", so quaint and a delicious pumpkin spice latte with plenty of espresso! Really friendly barista, was excited to find out we were from Michigan and rode there in October... kinda thought we were crazy I think!
Then it was another night camping (in the rain, of course) and the next day I was off to New York, NY!
I have to say, my favorite drive up to this point was flying south from CT into NY state on some kind of parkway... I should have paid attention, but I'm pretty sure it was the Saw Mill River Parkway. Beautiful trees overhanging the road, plenty of traffic but everyone was flying along and keeping good spacing to gently weave when needed to make it fun. Even found a few good hills and a nice tunnel, fun and spirited drive!
Cruised into NYC in the evening just at sunset, found my friends place on W 83rd St and freaked out for the first time. Leaving my baby on a NY city street overnight was a panic inducing thought! Especially since my Garmin base was hard mounted and the screen locked to the base, plus my drybags full of camping supplies were bungied 6 ways from Sunday and there wasn't room inside his cramped efficiency for my hard bags and gear. Saying a prayer, I parked my bike sideways and nearly touching a mid-90s Porche 911 and Mercedes E320.
Grabbing coffee from a bodega we heading out for an all nite tour of NYC... I know, super smart as I was heading out the next day, right? Oh well! Central Park (before dark, don't worry mom!), Times Square, Empire State Bldg, USS Intrepid/Enterprise museum, etc. We did it all and crashed for a few hours before heading out for waffles from a street vendor (Waffles and Dinges truck is amazing!) and hitting the saddle once again!
Heading out under the Lincoln tunnel into Jersey I was struck by how freakin' amazing my pipes sounded in that tunnel... I think I was in 2nd gear the whole time at around 45mph! :yahoo: Oh yah, I loved beautiful the weather was now, 78 degrees and sunny! Just after this pic I stripped down to my armored jeans and my jacket... now THIS was fall touring!
About 150 miles later I was cursing my previous optimism, West Virginia had brought a 20 degree temperature drop and with the cold front came a steady, fine drizzle and slowly but surely penetrated my (finally dried and comfy) riding gear. I wasn't about to stop and put on my rain pants since my jeans were already wet and what was the point of soaking my riding pants when I might get a dry day tomorrow!
400 miles into day 6... DISASTER STRUCK.
I stop at a Pilot truck stop, wet, exhausted, and not thinking clearly by any means. When a road trip is going according to plan, soon it won't be! October 1st, 3 days and 1,600 miles of driving left, at 8PM I fill up my tank and pull a bonehead move (brought on by exhaustion and the nearness of a hot meal), and lose my wallet at a Pilot truck stop. I realize how I did it... I set my wallet on my tank bag as I lifted it up to refuel. I reattached the bag magnets, hung up the pump, drove up to the Subway for a sandwich and a bathroom break, then realized 15 minutes later I had NO wallet. Frantic search of every pocket (of which there were somewhere around 67 on my gear and underclothes), all three hard bags and my tank bag... nope. Checked at every counter, staff member, and security camera I could wrangle a peek at. Even checked trash cans inside and out. I realized that here I am, bike loaded full of more gear than an arctic expedition, and only enough gas to go 200 miles.
No cash.
No cards.
No ID.
No travelers checks. (and who really uses those anymore anyway?)
That SitRep leads to one conclusion: F. M. L. :crazy:
I mean on glass-half-full side, I've got a full tank of gas (prior to losing my damn wallet, I'd filled up), I do have a full pack of gum, 1 of my cousin Melanie's homemade cinnamon rolls, and a tube of pretty amazing Burt's Bees chapstick... so not all is lost. But it's pretty bleak. I wait 2.5 hours at the truck stop, routinely checking the gas station, Subway, Tim Horton's, and Wendy's to see if anyone turns in my wallet. Nope. Spent 40 minutes on the phone cancelling every card I could think of and praying I didn't miss any. I wasn't even mad at the $180 cash, $25 on my Starbucks card, 3 free meal cards, and all the membership crap you acquire that sucks to re-issue. I was freaking out about driving back to Michigan illegally without a license. A clandestine call to the Michigan State Police made it clear driving without a license on your person is not legal. Well, crap. I sure as heck can't wait here for 4 days until a license is mailed to me! I decided I better ride sane, slow, and head home tomorrow... skipping most of the best riding on the whole trip!
Okay, on the bright side I'm once again blown away by people's generosity; For instance the cute and sympathetic Subway employee that skipped her free meal at work and gave me a sandwich instead, or the Tim Horton's manager (Paul, you are awesome!) who came outside to look with me then later handed me a hot mocha on the house. Little things like that from a busy truck stop really warmed my heart, people pull through and surprise you... and it's beautiful! Turns out I never got my wallet back, but never got scammed or charged up either.
To make things even better, just after the last 75 miles were wrapped up and just before reaching my campsite that nite I dropped my bike HARD! Came to a quick stop getting off the freeway, put my foot down to balance and WHEEEEE... away it slipped on what afterwords appeared to be a huge radiator fluid spill. The bike tipped, the bike toppled, the bike crashed onto it's side. Scratched all of the right side panels and luggage, bent the mirror, rear brake lever, ripped my grip, and broke my cruise control. Bike damage wasn't really bad, but my ego suffered quite the blow. That, and lifting up a nearly 900lb loaded bike back onto its feet is no easy task. Even less so when you are very tired, pissed as hell, it's raining plenty, and you've just lost your wallet bringing your patience level to 0.03%. :cryingsmiley:
I arrived at the KOA for the night, set up at nearly midnight in the rain, all of my gear at this point wet and musty, and crawled into bed with a heavy heart. I did fall asleep right away though...!
hrrrrooOONK
wwwwhhaaaaaaaAAAAACK
...I snap awake at 5:45AM, only aware of this by activating the night-lite glow of my watch. Again, there it was... the loud noise closer now and mere feet from my head. I groan, not nearly ready to wake up yet. I roll over and pull the fabric over my head.
quACK... quack... QUACK!
Hoooonk, honk... QUAAAAAACK!
ARRRGH! I open my eyes yet again. ...as the inside of my tent came into focus I realized where I was, but not what was going on. I fell back asleep only to be startled awake again by even more insistant honking from all around me. Disgruntled and disrobed to the point of sleeping bag comfort, I unzipped my cocoon and slid out to inspect the chaos outside. Hoooly hotcakes, it was much colder than my numbed face had previously communicated to my brain.
With catlike speed only generated by the cold, (certaintly not my early AM agiity), I unzipped my door and rainfly only to stare directly into the beak of a large, irritated, very wet duck.
A very wet WHITE duck!
A white duck the size of a small terrier and walking steadily towards me with wings extending in slight attack mode. "QUACK!" says he... Quick surveilence showed at least 20 other birds with a 15 yard radius... I knew it, something fowl was afoot!
Quickly zipping up my tent I plotted how to keep the angry avians silent while I snuck in 2 more hours of sleep. ...Quack, HONK... honk, quONK Honk. QuACKhonkQUACK!
No use, not going to happen. I wearily slide out of my bag, clothe myself, slide quickly into my slightly damp jacket, armored pants, and boots, then unzip my tent and step into the morning rain. BWAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!! This is my shouted greeting to the assembled subjects before me, surprisingly they scatter to the nearest pond which is only 20' away. Hmm, didn't see that when I made camp last night at 11:00. Breaking down my tent, packing wet gear into dry bags (the irony of this not escaping me), and loading all the gear onto my motorcycle I contemplate a hot cuppa and bowl of oatmeal. Ahh, if only it were possible... but I had lost my entire wallet the night before and had $2.00 in cash and a 1/2 tank of gas.
And I smile... then laugh.
Yep!
I laugh as the rain beads on my helmet still gripped in my hands, thinking how miserable this could be and how in spite of this I couldn't help but laugh. This was such a (generally speaking) undesirable situation that I was actually having a great morning. What adult in their right mind would choose to put themselves in this situation? See, that's my point. It's crazy, normal is over-rated, and it's time to slide my (now dripping) helmet on my head and hit the road.
As morning faded into noon, Mom & Dad were able to Western Union me $200 to help get home. Turns out getting ANY cash without any sort of I.D. is a really huge pain in the a$$. Even fraud-prone W/U will ONLY send you $200 and that's with some weird passcode, confirmation number dealio that took F I V E hours to complete. My bank couldn't help me, Chase VISA wouldn't do anything, neither would my other card companies. Strange state, no I.D., no luck.
Thanks MOM & DAD! By the way, it's REALLY hard to get cash without I.D.
REALLY HARD!
Did I say it's HARD?
Yeah... so this is where I spent most of day 7, browsing bike mags while sitting in the prescription area watching countless aged folks picking up hemmerhoid and viagra prescriptions. NOT part of my initial itinerary!
On the road, a freshly paid for Starbucks mocha ingested (thank GOD Starbucks mobile app retains your card balance, and you scan your phone to pay!) and headed to West Virginia... of course its raining. ;P
By late afternoon I'm finally seeing the beauty of W.V. as valleys and peaks are tinged with color. God blessed this part of the country for sure!
A quick note about my time in West Virginia... I jumped off the freeway for awhile to experience a little of the BRP and later some pretty amazing county roads up in the hill country. However, never pull off the freeway in rural West Virginia if there's no town, only a gas station: I needed gas, that was clear! I pushed my tank past the 200 mile mark and figured I'd just hit the next available exit. Sure enough, a few miles pass and an Exxon station is coming up soon. I hit the brakes, nudge my thirsty bike to the right and down the offramp I roll for quite awhile as the ramps descends pretty far down and away from the elevated freeway bed. Do you ever have those moments when suddenly everything changes and it's quite jarring?
I had one right about then. The freeway was about 20' over my head since the offramp dropped DOWN quickly and after 1/4 mile ended at a vertical rock wall in front of me. To my right and left was only rock wall, with a small road blasted out of the canyon floor... and I swear the entire road was about 15' wide and it was clear I was in coal country. There was an old piece of plywood with a brush-painted Exxon sign and a sloppy arrow pointing to the right. Ooookay, this is interesting (I thought to myself). As my bike thundered down the canyon (damn, Two Brothers sound good echoing off rock walls) I saw a few decaying houses chiseled into small defiles in the rock, small yards only feet from the road I was on and it was clear I was definitely in mining country now. After 3 miles or so I broke into a larger box-canyon and there was the Exxon... large as life and just like it was when it was built, in the 50s! I proceeded to fill up as this wasn't a pre-pay station and walked up to pay, only to witness two Jersey Shore types screaming at the lady behind the counter. "Whadya mean ya don't take plastic, what-a kinda stoopid business you have heah? Youse expect everybody to have a hunnert dollas in cash on em?" Counter lady looks stoically at couple and says (this was priceless BTW): "Nope. But I 'spect you to have it!" I'm pretty sure the Caddy Escalade EXT parked at the faded pump next to my bike was prooooobably theirs!
After that, I waste no time in paying my $15.00 bill in cash and hustling out the door. Then came my mistake, I saw a large, decaying plantation style mansion across the road from the station that was nearly falling down. Once the largest and most magnificent house in town, now 4 big columns support a full upper porch and 3rd story cupola with a deadly sag to it, a rusted tractor parked ON the lower porch and a dump truck missing 3 wheels and headlights in the yard! There were sizeable holes in the roof covered with green tarps which say its vertical days may be numbered, and a huge moss-covered willow tree drooping in the foreground. With the sunlight turning golden just before dipping behind the canyon wall, it's an amazing picture, maybe black and white perfection! I leave my bike idling and walk towards the house, Nikon in hand. I only want to get within 75 yards of the house, not even to the driveway! I then notice a couple dudes hanging out near the Exxon building... they stare at me with an expression much like a guy who has just stepped in horse poo. "HEY!" one of them yells, and pushes off the building wall. "The F*ck you going?" says the walker... I make an executive decision: the photo wouldn't be that good, fast-walking back to my bike. I suddenly realize a guy dressed in Yamaha racing blue on a loud 160HP sportbike with gear stacked to the windshield... how to say this, he isn't gonna be seen as a local. "HEY, I'm talking to you!" Both scuzzbucket local dudes start to increase their stride as rather angry expressions slip on their faces. I hop on and and pop into first gear, letting my throttle hand say goodbye as I spin the rear tire a little more than necessary in my departure. As I fly by the dilapidated mansion I see someone step onto the upper balcony and watch me fly past... "hoooly crap, someone lives there" I think to myself. As I fly down the canyon I realized they probably felt a bit objectified by people taking pictures and feel a twinge of remorse... but I'm still happy to see the freeway onramp and blast back to 2012 again.
Sun sets as I pull into my last KOA for the trip... this time I splurged on a cabin and man, what a welcome relief! The staff atAshland Huntington West KOA waited up for me to make sure I found my cabin, and were genuine southern hosts. Thank you guys!
An amazing hot meal in downtown Grayson, KY at Melinni Cucina was fit for a king... so good! I was the only customer, so therefore I was waited on exclusively by a wonderful young lady named Tanya. We had a great conversation about my home state and hers, reminding me of the best part of trips like these. Letting circumstances take you where they will, meeting new people and sharing a little bit of their life... even a snapshot sometimes, but taking a little part of each place with you. Anyway, good times that night and a cozy, warm cabin to come back to.
HItting the road for my 2nd to last day, I would cruise up Kentucky and through Ohio to my good friends' family homestead. I would sleep in a real bed for the first time in a week, and a hot tub would reward my long ride. Here's a few pics from that leg of the trip, first real fall colors I'd seen yet!
After a good nite's rest I was off after breakfast, under 400 miles to go before home was in sight.
I have to say that while Ohio is ----- F L A T ------, it's also beautiful in some spots much like Michigan. Here's a few colors I found on the back roads home.
After all is said and done, I had an unpredictable, unexpected, and completely unraveled trip. I didn't even get to ride the BRP as far as I wanted, never got to the Dragon or North Carolina, and ended up cutting things short due to my wallet issue. However, it was an amazing trip and it's made me want to ride a tour again soon. As other members have said, there's something special about riding with friends... and something very right about trips by yourself too.
It's great to ride with other bikes, but having your own schedule, quitting early or pushing that extra 100 miles because you can... it's a pretty open ended feeling!
A few thoughts came to me after I was home after looking back on that time.
*** I can actually ride a motorcycle in torrential rain! This came as a surprise to me, but driving south from NH into CT I hit 4 hours of the hardest rain I have driven ANY vehicle in. My FJR1300 was amazing, my new tires were definitely on my mind when I hit a flooded section that ranged from 2" to 4" deep... at 60MPH... I will never forget the looks I got from traffic as I would pass or be passed by them. A guy in a bright blue jacket, flying down the tollway with water jetting from my helmet shield, streaming from my elbows, and a large stream of road-water directed onto my boots from the front tire. I enjoyed freaking out small children by turning slightly and smiling... followed by a thumbs up. The wide-eyed looks I got were priceless.
*** Family is defined by more than a last name, it's those people that you can hug, laugh with, and pick up right where you left off no matter how long it's been! I have a hard time connecting with everyone as much as I want to since we are scattered all over the nation and I'm not a trust fund baby, but every chance I get... you can be sure I remember for months to come. Driving into my cousin's driveway completely dripping wet and with my gear weighing 40lbs was a memory I won't soon forget. Dumping most of my gear on the porch and changing into Jeff's dry clothes and Erica's fuzzy pink slippers... yep, I was with my family! LOL
In closing, I wouldn't trade my trip for anything, it pushed my limits of endurance and patience, showed me beautiful parts of this country I've never seen (also called getting lost, but who says there's one way to NYC!), introduced me to people I never would have had the chance to talk with, and reconnected me with friends and family I love. This year ALONE I have lost 1 friend to cancer, 1 to a heart attack (at 27), and 2 friends to a violent car crash. You don't always get the chance to take the trip of a lifetime... so if you can take the trip of the year, please do it! There's lots of reasons to stay on the couch, hide in the house, and shop online for everything. Until you see a morning sun breaking over trees covered in fog, experience driving from bright sun into and out of a storm on the Saw Mill River Parkway, or ride a bike on a ridgeline with fall colors cascading on both sides, you won't know what you're missing.
And that makes every broken mirror, lost wallet, shattered Bluetooth headset, exceeded trip budget, late-nite tent setup, and wounded ego worth it.
Sigh... and if you still think road trips are a silly idea and camping is no fun, I have one word for you:
QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!! :coolsmiley02:
Thanks for reading, please forgive my wordy ride report... and any spelling or syntax errors, well that's just me in general.
Abe in Michigan
Early this spring this trip was planned as a 2-week trip from Michigan to Seattle on 2 bikes with my roomie and a best friend... wow, how things change! My roomie sold his '05 FZ6 with a Touring setup due to a job cutback and budget pinching, best friend decided she couldn't get enough time off work to go that long, and I didn't want to commit to that long of a trip by myself as the furthest I'd ventured from home was 350 miles and back.
Trip changed drastically to an East Coast color tour including connecting with family and friends on the way and hitting the Blue Ridge Parkway at the southern end of my journey.What it turned into is shown here...to the best of my abilities to recreate my route. Need to pick up a handy dandy Spot GPS next trip!
Preparations for departure included:
- New rear PR2 tire
- Valentine 1 w/Powerlet adapter in dash
- Russell Daylong heated seats F/R
- Synthetic oil change, full chassis lube, final drive svc.
- Admore LED kit for my E52 case
- SENA SM10 Bluetooth hub for V1/Garmin/iPhone
- Cheepo Throttle Lock C/C
Late September, 6:00AM, 34 degrees and one packed motorcycle... it begins! I head out for Grayling, MI and breakfast at Shirley's Cafe near Bear Lake, (amazing food and very fair pricing) not realizing just how cold 31 degrees really is. Thanks to freakish N. Michigan temperature swings I was treated to a 40 degree temp increase that first day! By the time I arrived at breakfast my hands were in pain, wrists could barely move, and my neck had a thin red line where wind snuck between my helmet and jacket collar. Not a great start to the trip, I realize I had better leave this cold behind or do a little more shopping down the road! Thawing out with a delicious plate of home-cooked breakfast and hot coffee... made even better 'cause my buddy Brandon drove that far to have breakfast with me!
He was bummin' as he was supposed to come with me this trip, except for the fact he no longer had a bike!
Pushing on down the road, I pick up a set of shake-n-bake hand warmers that quickly bring my numb digits to a comfortable zone once again. Finally, 640 miles later (and 68 degrees Fahrenheit!) I arrive at the Bellafonte KOA campground in Eastern Pennsylvania. I can't say enough about all the KOAs I stayed at, fair pricing, courteous staff, and the packet they left for me (after hours campers stop and pick up a packet at the office) always had good directions to my tent site.
Anyway, 640 miles in the saddle had left me sore and stiff... although my butt was totally fine thanks to the Russell Daylong. It's like some weird Voodoo, I was such a skeptic but damn, that thing is WORTH the $$$ after your first couple looooong days in the saddle. It really is a "daylong" comfort that's hard to describe. Anyway, back to the campsite. This Thursday night begins the first of many after-dark tent construction and campsite creations... most of which take place in the rain. I get into a routine, drive in late, leave the headlights on while I pitch camp, cover the bike with my (now empty) drybags, then hang my wet outer gear in the vestibule of my tent. Crawl inside tent and do all my "dry stuff". Set up bag, sleeping pad, have a snack, read, then fall asleep to the sound of leaves rustling and rain pattering on the tent.
Not what most people would desire after a long day of riding, but sore and miserable as I was there was a strong sense of adventure and a little bit of badass-ness that was undeniable. Camping is only as fun as you expect it to be, and only you can choose: This became very clear the 2nd night of strong, steady rain when all I felt like was a hot shower and hotel. My attitude shifted in the morning when I slunk out of my small 3-man tent to see a cloudy, grey dawn all around me... revealing a forest of 40' RVs with Jeeps and Kias towed behind them. 2 middle aged couples gingerly stepped through the muddy mess that was the driveway, both walking small puffy mop-dogs while wearing rain gear and holding massive golf umbrellas.
As I stood there looking at $250K Prevost, Bluebird, and Monarch motorhomes (no, scratch that... motorcoaches), I suddenly felt very satisfied! I was the ONLY tent in the entire park! HOOAH! I took their very curious looks, packed up with pride and perhaps a bit of elitism, and patted my trusty Feejer on the tank as she rumbled to life and prepared to ride down the muddy driveway... yep! Camping IS fun!
After rolling out of PA and heading into NY state, I began to think I'd left the rain showers behind me as sunny skies and open roads made my keep an eye on my Valentine. That smooth motor just begs to be worked out, NY state troopers don't find it funny when you're explaining why you thought 90 was safe and prudent.
(and that was in a car, so I expect to get no respect on a bike!)
After fighting the traffic between CT and NY state, I finally broke free from the mess and made it up to my friend's house in NH where it began to sprinkle. Rolling my bike in the garage, I figured the rain would pass in time for my midday run down to CT the next day. I spent a relaxing evening catching up with my buddy and had a great dinner at a little downtown pub, then a hot shower to loosen my muscles. Slept like a babe and woke up at 7AM ready to have breakfast and hit the road.
------------ KaBOOOOM!
------------
That was what I woke to, a concussive thunder blast and shook the house. Fantastic. Decided to forgo leaving for awhile, ended up helping him change the soft top on his 4-door Wrangler to the hard top for winter, all while working in a stead rain. Started to really worry about whether I could leave that day at all. By noon the thunder had passed and forecast called for steady rain the next 36 hours, so suck it up and and don the rain gear.
Oh my God... I have never driven in harder rain in ANY vehicle..! All the way down 95, 495, past Hartford and into South Windsor, CT it poured like Noah had just finished the ark. I was cruising about 65-70 since I had to stay away from the other vehicles as their spray was so heavy it obscured all my forward visibility. Around 2 hours into my 5 hour drive my pants gave up the battle and my crotch exploded like I'd been on a 12 hour drinking binge and peed myself. :dribble: What a feeling, cold rainwater filling your armored jeans from the inside out... steadily soaking you from butt to feet then filling your boots. First time for everything I guess, soon after my Jacket gave up the fight and started reaching its saturation point.
By the time I reached my cousin's house around 8:00 I was completely soaked, my Shoei Qwest had water running INSIDE the helmet through the vents, my gloves were so soaked I couldn't feel the grips anymore, and both my SENA SMH10 headset and Garmin had quit working.
I didn't take any pics that day as it was pretty damn wet the whole way and I didn't want to risk soaking my cameras in the neverending downpour.
Stayed the 4th and 5th days with family, catching up and sharing memories together... good times and even better as the rain started to pass and clouds returned, which I can totally handle!
Next I headed over to Newport, Rhode Island to pick up my friend from back home as she flew out to join me for a couple days of riding. Once again, I ran into light rain which I ducked mostly by tucking behind my fairing and raising the shield all the way up. She was a very trusting girl to head out with me in a strange riding area, brooding clouds on the horizon, with no rain gear packed for her other than a rain shell jacket. BTW, if you have a woman you like to ride with... a heated seat will win you MAJOR points as toasty buns mean a happy pillion!
Touring along the coast we saw many small villages, huge homes, and more horses than I thought you could fit in a state as small as RI!
Of course, with all that driving in the cold rain... a little visit to touristy Newport was required! We found a little waterfront coffee shop called"The Coffee Grinder", so quaint and a delicious pumpkin spice latte with plenty of espresso! Really friendly barista, was excited to find out we were from Michigan and rode there in October... kinda thought we were crazy I think!
Then it was another night camping (in the rain, of course) and the next day I was off to New York, NY!
I have to say, my favorite drive up to this point was flying south from CT into NY state on some kind of parkway... I should have paid attention, but I'm pretty sure it was the Saw Mill River Parkway. Beautiful trees overhanging the road, plenty of traffic but everyone was flying along and keeping good spacing to gently weave when needed to make it fun. Even found a few good hills and a nice tunnel, fun and spirited drive!
Cruised into NYC in the evening just at sunset, found my friends place on W 83rd St and freaked out for the first time. Leaving my baby on a NY city street overnight was a panic inducing thought! Especially since my Garmin base was hard mounted and the screen locked to the base, plus my drybags full of camping supplies were bungied 6 ways from Sunday and there wasn't room inside his cramped efficiency for my hard bags and gear. Saying a prayer, I parked my bike sideways and nearly touching a mid-90s Porche 911 and Mercedes E320.
Grabbing coffee from a bodega we heading out for an all nite tour of NYC... I know, super smart as I was heading out the next day, right? Oh well! Central Park (before dark, don't worry mom!), Times Square, Empire State Bldg, USS Intrepid/Enterprise museum, etc. We did it all and crashed for a few hours before heading out for waffles from a street vendor (Waffles and Dinges truck is amazing!) and hitting the saddle once again!
Heading out under the Lincoln tunnel into Jersey I was struck by how freakin' amazing my pipes sounded in that tunnel... I think I was in 2nd gear the whole time at around 45mph! :yahoo: Oh yah, I loved beautiful the weather was now, 78 degrees and sunny! Just after this pic I stripped down to my armored jeans and my jacket... now THIS was fall touring!
About 150 miles later I was cursing my previous optimism, West Virginia had brought a 20 degree temperature drop and with the cold front came a steady, fine drizzle and slowly but surely penetrated my (finally dried and comfy) riding gear. I wasn't about to stop and put on my rain pants since my jeans were already wet and what was the point of soaking my riding pants when I might get a dry day tomorrow!
400 miles into day 6... DISASTER STRUCK.
I stop at a Pilot truck stop, wet, exhausted, and not thinking clearly by any means. When a road trip is going according to plan, soon it won't be! October 1st, 3 days and 1,600 miles of driving left, at 8PM I fill up my tank and pull a bonehead move (brought on by exhaustion and the nearness of a hot meal), and lose my wallet at a Pilot truck stop. I realize how I did it... I set my wallet on my tank bag as I lifted it up to refuel. I reattached the bag magnets, hung up the pump, drove up to the Subway for a sandwich and a bathroom break, then realized 15 minutes later I had NO wallet. Frantic search of every pocket (of which there were somewhere around 67 on my gear and underclothes), all three hard bags and my tank bag... nope. Checked at every counter, staff member, and security camera I could wrangle a peek at. Even checked trash cans inside and out. I realized that here I am, bike loaded full of more gear than an arctic expedition, and only enough gas to go 200 miles.
No cash.
No cards.
No ID.
No travelers checks. (and who really uses those anymore anyway?)
That SitRep leads to one conclusion: F. M. L. :crazy:
I mean on glass-half-full side, I've got a full tank of gas (prior to losing my damn wallet, I'd filled up), I do have a full pack of gum, 1 of my cousin Melanie's homemade cinnamon rolls, and a tube of pretty amazing Burt's Bees chapstick... so not all is lost. But it's pretty bleak. I wait 2.5 hours at the truck stop, routinely checking the gas station, Subway, Tim Horton's, and Wendy's to see if anyone turns in my wallet. Nope. Spent 40 minutes on the phone cancelling every card I could think of and praying I didn't miss any. I wasn't even mad at the $180 cash, $25 on my Starbucks card, 3 free meal cards, and all the membership crap you acquire that sucks to re-issue. I was freaking out about driving back to Michigan illegally without a license. A clandestine call to the Michigan State Police made it clear driving without a license on your person is not legal. Well, crap. I sure as heck can't wait here for 4 days until a license is mailed to me! I decided I better ride sane, slow, and head home tomorrow... skipping most of the best riding on the whole trip!
Okay, on the bright side I'm once again blown away by people's generosity; For instance the cute and sympathetic Subway employee that skipped her free meal at work and gave me a sandwich instead, or the Tim Horton's manager (Paul, you are awesome!) who came outside to look with me then later handed me a hot mocha on the house. Little things like that from a busy truck stop really warmed my heart, people pull through and surprise you... and it's beautiful! Turns out I never got my wallet back, but never got scammed or charged up either.
To make things even better, just after the last 75 miles were wrapped up and just before reaching my campsite that nite I dropped my bike HARD! Came to a quick stop getting off the freeway, put my foot down to balance and WHEEEEE... away it slipped on what afterwords appeared to be a huge radiator fluid spill. The bike tipped, the bike toppled, the bike crashed onto it's side. Scratched all of the right side panels and luggage, bent the mirror, rear brake lever, ripped my grip, and broke my cruise control. Bike damage wasn't really bad, but my ego suffered quite the blow. That, and lifting up a nearly 900lb loaded bike back onto its feet is no easy task. Even less so when you are very tired, pissed as hell, it's raining plenty, and you've just lost your wallet bringing your patience level to 0.03%. :cryingsmiley:
I arrived at the KOA for the night, set up at nearly midnight in the rain, all of my gear at this point wet and musty, and crawled into bed with a heavy heart. I did fall asleep right away though...!
hrrrrooOONK
wwwwhhaaaaaaaAAAAACK
...I snap awake at 5:45AM, only aware of this by activating the night-lite glow of my watch. Again, there it was... the loud noise closer now and mere feet from my head. I groan, not nearly ready to wake up yet. I roll over and pull the fabric over my head.
quACK... quack... QUACK!
Hoooonk, honk... QUAAAAAACK!
ARRRGH! I open my eyes yet again. ...as the inside of my tent came into focus I realized where I was, but not what was going on. I fell back asleep only to be startled awake again by even more insistant honking from all around me. Disgruntled and disrobed to the point of sleeping bag comfort, I unzipped my cocoon and slid out to inspect the chaos outside. Hoooly hotcakes, it was much colder than my numbed face had previously communicated to my brain.
With catlike speed only generated by the cold, (certaintly not my early AM agiity), I unzipped my door and rainfly only to stare directly into the beak of a large, irritated, very wet duck.
A very wet WHITE duck!
A white duck the size of a small terrier and walking steadily towards me with wings extending in slight attack mode. "QUACK!" says he... Quick surveilence showed at least 20 other birds with a 15 yard radius... I knew it, something fowl was afoot!
Quickly zipping up my tent I plotted how to keep the angry avians silent while I snuck in 2 more hours of sleep. ...Quack, HONK... honk, quONK Honk. QuACKhonkQUACK!
No use, not going to happen. I wearily slide out of my bag, clothe myself, slide quickly into my slightly damp jacket, armored pants, and boots, then unzip my tent and step into the morning rain. BWAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!! This is my shouted greeting to the assembled subjects before me, surprisingly they scatter to the nearest pond which is only 20' away. Hmm, didn't see that when I made camp last night at 11:00. Breaking down my tent, packing wet gear into dry bags (the irony of this not escaping me), and loading all the gear onto my motorcycle I contemplate a hot cuppa and bowl of oatmeal. Ahh, if only it were possible... but I had lost my entire wallet the night before and had $2.00 in cash and a 1/2 tank of gas.
And I smile... then laugh.
Yep!
I laugh as the rain beads on my helmet still gripped in my hands, thinking how miserable this could be and how in spite of this I couldn't help but laugh. This was such a (generally speaking) undesirable situation that I was actually having a great morning. What adult in their right mind would choose to put themselves in this situation? See, that's my point. It's crazy, normal is over-rated, and it's time to slide my (now dripping) helmet on my head and hit the road.
As morning faded into noon, Mom & Dad were able to Western Union me $200 to help get home. Turns out getting ANY cash without any sort of I.D. is a really huge pain in the a$$. Even fraud-prone W/U will ONLY send you $200 and that's with some weird passcode, confirmation number dealio that took F I V E hours to complete. My bank couldn't help me, Chase VISA wouldn't do anything, neither would my other card companies. Strange state, no I.D., no luck.
Thanks MOM & DAD! By the way, it's REALLY hard to get cash without I.D.
REALLY HARD!
Did I say it's HARD?
Yeah... so this is where I spent most of day 7, browsing bike mags while sitting in the prescription area watching countless aged folks picking up hemmerhoid and viagra prescriptions. NOT part of my initial itinerary!
On the road, a freshly paid for Starbucks mocha ingested (thank GOD Starbucks mobile app retains your card balance, and you scan your phone to pay!) and headed to West Virginia... of course its raining. ;P
By late afternoon I'm finally seeing the beauty of W.V. as valleys and peaks are tinged with color. God blessed this part of the country for sure!
A quick note about my time in West Virginia... I jumped off the freeway for awhile to experience a little of the BRP and later some pretty amazing county roads up in the hill country. However, never pull off the freeway in rural West Virginia if there's no town, only a gas station: I needed gas, that was clear! I pushed my tank past the 200 mile mark and figured I'd just hit the next available exit. Sure enough, a few miles pass and an Exxon station is coming up soon. I hit the brakes, nudge my thirsty bike to the right and down the offramp I roll for quite awhile as the ramps descends pretty far down and away from the elevated freeway bed. Do you ever have those moments when suddenly everything changes and it's quite jarring?
I had one right about then. The freeway was about 20' over my head since the offramp dropped DOWN quickly and after 1/4 mile ended at a vertical rock wall in front of me. To my right and left was only rock wall, with a small road blasted out of the canyon floor... and I swear the entire road was about 15' wide and it was clear I was in coal country. There was an old piece of plywood with a brush-painted Exxon sign and a sloppy arrow pointing to the right. Ooookay, this is interesting (I thought to myself). As my bike thundered down the canyon (damn, Two Brothers sound good echoing off rock walls) I saw a few decaying houses chiseled into small defiles in the rock, small yards only feet from the road I was on and it was clear I was definitely in mining country now. After 3 miles or so I broke into a larger box-canyon and there was the Exxon... large as life and just like it was when it was built, in the 50s! I proceeded to fill up as this wasn't a pre-pay station and walked up to pay, only to witness two Jersey Shore types screaming at the lady behind the counter. "Whadya mean ya don't take plastic, what-a kinda stoopid business you have heah? Youse expect everybody to have a hunnert dollas in cash on em?" Counter lady looks stoically at couple and says (this was priceless BTW): "Nope. But I 'spect you to have it!"
I'm pretty sure the Caddy Escalade EXT parked at the faded pump next to my bike was prooooobably theirs!After that, I waste no time in paying my $15.00 bill in cash and hustling out the door. Then came my mistake, I saw a large, decaying plantation style mansion across the road from the station that was nearly falling down. Once the largest and most magnificent house in town, now 4 big columns support a full upper porch and 3rd story cupola with a deadly sag to it, a rusted tractor parked ON the lower porch and a dump truck missing 3 wheels and headlights in the yard! There were sizeable holes in the roof covered with green tarps which say its vertical days may be numbered, and a huge moss-covered willow tree drooping in the foreground. With the sunlight turning golden just before dipping behind the canyon wall, it's an amazing picture, maybe black and white perfection! I leave my bike idling and walk towards the house, Nikon in hand. I only want to get within 75 yards of the house, not even to the driveway! I then notice a couple dudes hanging out near the Exxon building... they stare at me with an expression much like a guy who has just stepped in horse poo. "HEY!" one of them yells, and pushes off the building wall. "The F*ck you going?" says the walker... I make an executive decision: the photo wouldn't be that good, fast-walking back to my bike. I suddenly realize a guy dressed in Yamaha racing blue on a loud 160HP sportbike with gear stacked to the windshield... how to say this, he isn't gonna be seen as a local. "HEY, I'm talking to you!" Both scuzzbucket local dudes start to increase their stride as rather angry expressions slip on their faces. I hop on and and pop into first gear, letting my throttle hand say goodbye as I spin the rear tire a little more than necessary in my departure. As I fly by the dilapidated mansion I see someone step onto the upper balcony and watch me fly past... "hoooly crap, someone lives there" I think to myself. As I fly down the canyon I realized they probably felt a bit objectified by people taking pictures and feel a twinge of remorse... but I'm still happy to see the freeway onramp and blast back to 2012 again.
Sun sets as I pull into my last KOA for the trip... this time I splurged on a cabin and man, what a welcome relief! The staff atAshland Huntington West KOA waited up for me to make sure I found my cabin, and were genuine southern hosts. Thank you guys!
An amazing hot meal in downtown Grayson, KY at Melinni Cucina was fit for a king... so good! I was the only customer, so therefore I was waited on exclusively by a wonderful young lady named Tanya. We had a great conversation about my home state and hers, reminding me of the best part of trips like these. Letting circumstances take you where they will, meeting new people and sharing a little bit of their life... even a snapshot sometimes, but taking a little part of each place with you. Anyway, good times that night and a cozy, warm cabin to come back to.
HItting the road for my 2nd to last day, I would cruise up Kentucky and through Ohio to my good friends' family homestead. I would sleep in a real bed for the first time in a week, and a hot tub would reward my long ride.
Here's a few pics from that leg of the trip, first real fall colors I'd seen yet!
After a good nite's rest I was off after breakfast, under 400 miles to go before home was in sight.
I have to say that while Ohio is ----- F L A T ------, it's also beautiful in some spots much like Michigan. Here's a few colors I found on the back roads home.
After all is said and done, I had an unpredictable, unexpected, and completely unraveled trip. I didn't even get to ride the BRP as far as I wanted, never got to the Dragon or North Carolina, and ended up cutting things short due to my wallet issue. However, it was an amazing trip and it's made me want to ride a tour again soon. As other members have said, there's something special about riding with friends... and something very right about trips by yourself too.
It's great to ride with other bikes, but having your own schedule, quitting early or pushing that extra 100 miles because you can... it's a pretty open ended feeling!
A few thoughts came to me after I was home after looking back on that time.
*** I can actually ride a motorcycle in torrential rain! This came as a surprise to me, but driving south from NH into CT I hit 4 hours of the hardest rain I have driven ANY vehicle in. My FJR1300 was amazing, my new tires were definitely on my mind when I hit a flooded section that ranged from 2" to 4" deep... at 60MPH... I will never forget the looks I got from traffic as I would pass or be passed by them. A guy in a bright blue jacket, flying down the tollway with water jetting from my helmet shield, streaming from my elbows, and a large stream of road-water directed onto my boots from the front tire. I enjoyed freaking out small children by turning slightly and smiling... followed by a thumbs up. The wide-eyed looks I got were priceless.
*** Family is defined by more than a last name, it's those people that you can hug, laugh with, and pick up right where you left off no matter how long it's been! I have a hard time connecting with everyone as much as I want to since we are scattered all over the nation and I'm not a trust fund baby, but every chance I get... you can be sure I remember for months to come. Driving into my cousin's driveway completely dripping wet and with my gear weighing 40lbs was a memory I won't soon forget. Dumping most of my gear on the porch and changing into Jeff's dry clothes and Erica's fuzzy pink slippers... yep, I was with my family! LOL
In closing, I wouldn't trade my trip for anything, it pushed my limits of endurance and patience, showed me beautiful parts of this country I've never seen (also called getting lost, but who says there's one way to NYC!), introduced me to people I never would have had the chance to talk with, and reconnected me with friends and family I love. This year ALONE I have lost 1 friend to cancer, 1 to a heart attack (at 27), and 2 friends to a violent car crash. You don't always get the chance to take the trip of a lifetime... so if you can take the trip of the year, please do it! There's lots of reasons to stay on the couch, hide in the house, and shop online for everything. Until you see a morning sun breaking over trees covered in fog, experience driving from bright sun into and out of a storm on the Saw Mill River Parkway, or ride a bike on a ridgeline with fall colors cascading on both sides, you won't know what you're missing.
And that makes every broken mirror, lost wallet, shattered Bluetooth headset, exceeded trip budget, late-nite tent setup, and wounded ego worth it.
Sigh... and if you still think road trips are a silly idea and camping is no fun, I have one word for you:
QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!! :coolsmiley02:
Thanks for reading, please forgive my wordy ride report... and any spelling or syntax errors, well that's just me in general.
Abe in Michigan
