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The first motorcycle ride of my 40s. Decided to ride to the coast. A nice long ride, but shorter by usual touring standards - rode to Mendocino from Napa on Hwy 128, through the Napa Valley and the Alexander Valley vineyards, and then through the glorious Redwoods near the coast. It was sunny, warm but not too hot earlier in the day - the reason for tackling the in-land portion of the ride first. Hugged the coast on the return journey, enjoying nature's air conditioning. The fog had blanketed the coast this afternoon - the sun struggled vigorously to burn it's way through. To no avail, it remained a prisoner to the wall of fog.

The ride was brisk and fun - few (almost none) leisure stops. The weather was melancholy on the coast, but there was no fog in my mind. Opportunities to ride come seldom these days. I was grateful to be out this day.

I did make one notable stop. At Point Arena lighthouse. The scene was guarded by the fog, but I ventured to do my best to capture the cliffs kissing the ocean - take it home with me in my mind, and also locked away inside my camera.

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The first motorcycle ride of my 40s. Decided to ride to the coast. A nice long ride, but shorter by usual touring standards - rode to Mendocino from Napa on Hwy 128, through the Napa Valley and the Alexander Valley vineyards, and then through the glorious Redwoods near the coast. It was sunny, warm but not too hot earlier in the day - the reason for tackling the in-land portion of the ride first. Hugged the coast on the return journey, enjoying nature's air conditioning. The fog had blanketed the coast this afternoon - the sun struggled vigorously to burn it's way through. To no avail, it remained a prisoner to the wall of fog.

The ride was brisk and fun - few (almost none) leisure stops. The weather was melancholy on the coast, but there was no fog in my mind. Opportunities to ride come seldom these days. I was grateful to be out this day.

I did make one notable stop. At Point Arena lighthouse. The scene was guarded by the fog, but breached periodically by the beacon from the lighthouse. I ventured to do my best to capture the cliffs kissing the ocean - take it home with me in my mind, and also locked away inside my camera.

DSC_2666_7_8_tonemapped_zpsg0e0jnov.jpg


 
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October 2012

My buddy Gus and I are touring Arkansas. The weather is forecast to be crappy rain for the indefinite future, but we could care less. We just want to ride.

We leave Louisiana on the western side and find our way to Mena, Arkansas for night 2. The Ouachita Mountains are not as popular as the Ozarks but they are beautiful in their own rite. We find a nice campsite in the Queen Wilimena State Park, on the Talimena Scenic Highway in the mid-afternoon. With some time to kill, we unload the bikes and hit the road. The TSH runs along the highest peaks of the mountain range, with plenty of pull-offs to stop and look around. Its a wonderful place that I can re-visit every few years and still enjoy it just as much as the first time.

I got an idea for a picture. I thought that if I pull the FJR right up to the edge, maybe I could depict it as getting ready to take off. After all, everyone knows that the FJR flies, right?

It worked.

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Stay thirsty, my friends....

 
Since our first ride out to the southwest in 2004, we never pass by the side road up to the Hite Overlook in Utah without stopping. In 2015 we were heading east towards home and had stopped to once again take in the view when we were joined by a rider on his annual trip to the BMW rally in Panguitch UT. After we performed the traditional "you-take-my-picture-and-I'll-take-yours" ritual, he shared with us that he used to take these trips with his son who had died a few years prior. The Hite Overlook was one of the places along the way where he had scattered some of his son's ashes, and that day he was stopping by to say hello. A beautiful spot that is now even more special.



 
There was an ADVriders photo tag that has been sitting up at the US Four Corners Park in Madawaska, ME for the past year. No exaggeration here, it was placed up there on September 5th 2015. This is in the Greater Flugistan, (home of the Carpet Baggers) Tag-O-Rama. Greater Flugistan is the entire northeast as far south as NJ, PA. etc. The tag had apparently stalled up at the Northern extreme because none of the southerners wanted to make that long of a northern trek.

Another rider left a tag in a different game (the Northern New England TOR) just a couple of weeks ago, up at the "America's First Mile" marker, which is the first mile of US Route 1, in nearby Fort Kent, ME. He hadn't been aware of the Madawaska tag or he would have grabbed it then, no doubt. NNE-TOR region is defined as, ME, NH, VT and MA only north of the Mass Pike. According to the rules, the new tag must be moved at least 50 miles, and re-placed within 48 hours of grabbing the old one.

I took the day off on Friday to take a long ride, save the old Flugistan tag from the shame of celebrating its 1st year anniversary in Madawaska, and at the same time to try to set a new record for the longest move in the NNE TOR game. Left home at first light, which is 6 AM right about now, rode the hour to the coast, then up the Maine Turnpike (I-95).

Prior to this weekend, I had always sort of considered Bangor as being "Northern Maine." I now have a new appreciation for how much more land there is north of that. Bangor is actually only about 1/2 way up the state. North of Bangor civilization gets very spread out. Open roads with no traffic to contend with, and a lot of potato farms. I-95 north of Bangor is 2-lanes each way (divided, of course), and is posted at 75 mph with no traffic. Easy to ton-up for long stretches with very little risk. That didn't help my fuel mileage much though...
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Made it to Fort Kent in 7 hours from home, stopping only for gas. Grabbed a quick sammy before riding north 20 miles (on Route 1 South
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) to Madawaska Four Corners. From there, I took a couple of state road south east along Long Lake (pretty) down to Caribou, Presque Isle to Houlton and the tippy-top of I-95, then blasted back down I-95 and burned some Marriott points in Bangor overnight. I arrived just before 6 PM, as the sun was getting low. No real need to go moose hunting with the FJR. My Day 1 was 660 miles in 11:44.

Saturday I was up and out at 6 AM again, but it was a 100% humid 45 degrees at the outset. Got to use the grip warmers, and give a good test to my new pin-lock equipped Neotec helmet. (worked great!)
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Turned off the interstate in Biddeford, and cut across through Sanford, ME to grab a NH TOR tag at the Poor People's Pub in Sanbornville, NH. The secondary objective of getting off the slab, and going cross country was to avoid the holiday weekend traffic on the interstates in eastern MA.

From Sanbornville I rode across NH Route 4, rolled through Concord to Route 9 west to Keene. Then Route 10 south to the Pisgah Diner in Winchester, to drop the NH tag off in the southwest corner of NH. Then continued down through the Berkshire mountains of western MA to the Hancock Shaker Village, in the southwest corner of the NNE-TOR region.

So I moved that tag from Americas First Mile in Fort Kent to Hancock, MA riding 625 miles between, but since the shortest route distance (according to Google Maps) is 553 miles, that will be the new record move distance.

Still needing to drop the Flugistan tag from Madawaska, I rode east on the Mass pike, then up US 202 through Belchertown (no joke!) to the Winsor Dam. That is the dam that they built to create the big Quabbin Reservoir, which is the main water supply for the Metro Boston area 60 miles to the east. When they flooded the Swift River Valley to create the Quabbin back in the 1930s, they displaced 4 existing towns by eminent domain (Dana, Enfield, Prescott, and Greenwich), the ruins of which still lie somewhere beneath its surface. The dam is a picturesque spot with a great view of the lake that we NERDS like to visit every now and then. And the tag should now be within riding range of some Flugistanians to take south for the winter.
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So yesterday's ride was only 544 miles (not all slab) in 11:14, for the two day totals of 1,204 miles in less than 24 hours elapsed time (with an overnight snooze break, CBA style). It's a little hard to choose only one photo from the two days of riding and tagging, but, I guess that the Madawaska 4 Corners location is a worthy "rite of passage".

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Now need to bag the other 3 corners.
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FredW, I made that trip in a convertible once I realized my Boston days were very limited. I've also been to the other "milepost zero" for US 1 in Key West. Took me about 30 years to travel between them, but it has happened. I've also been to San Ysidro, but that was 1980.

When are you headed to Washington? Maybe I can ride with you ....

 
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January 2015

On the 3rd Monday of every January, we celebrate the birth of Dr. Martin Luther King. Over the years, that milestone has meant different things to me. As I get older, I've come to realize that the diversity I was so afraid of in my younger years is the glue and the catalyst that actually makes the cogs mesh. Our individual differences is what makes the whole so much better. Thirty years ago, I was too stupid to know things like this. And if somebody tried to tell me otherwise, I'd dismiss them as ignorant.

But age and experience does something to a man. It makes him tired enough to stop and think. And when a man has time to think, he sees the error of his ways. If he is humble enough, he thinks about things differently and the world repays him one hundred fold over.

Regardless, State of Louisiana employees get MLK day off, which means I get 3 1/2 days to play. If the weather forecast is decent, I'm going camping on the bike. By now, I've had plenty enough family and holidays and eating high fat foods. I'm ready for some wide open spaces and the motorcycle is a great way to get there.

Turns out, my buddies Mike and John are also ready. I'll meet John at his house on Friday evening. Together, we will head northeast tomorrow and meet Mike somewhere along the way. It doesn't really matter where we go. We will be together and on the bikes. The rest is just logistics.

On Friday, I ride the bike to work and watch the time clock like a hawk, holding my breath until noon, when I can get out of here and let the adventure begin. I've got 6 hours to go 120 miles, so I'll take the long way and see what I can see. The sun sets pretty early in these parts during the winter. As I get close to Johns house, with the sun setting behind the woods ahead, the sky lights up before my very eyes and a feeling of peace comes upon me. It's more than I can resist, so I pull off the road for a minute.

This is another revelation as one graduates from the University of Hard Knocks. Don't pass up a chance to do nothing. The really good stuff is unexpected. It comes when it comes and if you ignore it, you may not get another chance for a very long time. I stood there next to my bike just staring at the beautiful sky. I studied the colors like some kind of artist with his thumb extended, trying to frame up the beauty of that place right there, right now. I'm not an overly religious man, but I believe that some things are unexplainable. Something that beautiful certainly fits this category of things.

As quick as it came, it went. Darkness was fast approaching. John's house is just beyond that next curve and I better be moving on. Tonight we will share words, food, and spirits. Tomorrow we will gear up early and head wherever we want to go. The world is just perfect right now and I am so blessed to see it.

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Stay thirsty, my friends.....

 
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September 18, 2016

I've been riding my motorcycle on Sunday mornings for the past few weeks. I try to leave the house early to enjoy the cooler temperatures, and the dry pavement before the inevitable afternoon showers and thunderstorms start. Seems like it has rained every day for as long as I can remember. This has to be one of the wettest summers ever for the gulf coast.

I get out of town on a familiar route, just taking it easy and enjoying my tunes piped into my ear buds from my MP3 player. My bike is running great as always. I've recently changed the oil, flushed the brakes and clutch, and mounted new tires on the big Yamaha. The transmission is shifting silky smooth and the brake and clutch controls are very good, as I roll with confidence on my fresh rubber shoes beneath me. On this short Sunday jaunt, as is usually the case, I don't have much plans. Just ride out into the back country and see whatever I can see.

Unfortunately this morning, there wasn't much to see at all. The dewpoint has found the air temperature and the result is a very thick ground fog everywhere outside of town. I try to find ways around it, but the entire region is socked in. With visibility down to a few hundred yards, I slow down, switch to my low beams, and raise the windscreen to keep my helmet visor from fogging up.

I pull up to the intersection of Highways 178 and 182. I come to a complete stop and check the GPS, hoping for some kind of sign or suggestion. It has occurred to me that I’m not having much fun. This fog has me a little gun shy about the ride. I see an empty lot across the street and decide to just get off the bike a while and see if this fog will burn off.

I pull up to this neat red building. I’m not sure what this is. There are no signs anywhere on the property. It could have been a country bar or maybe it was a store of some kind. It’s old, but not ancient – maybe built in the 1950s. I walk around to check this place out. It needs work, but the structure is very sound. Curiosity satisfied, I sit down on the front porch with my water bottle and watch cars running up Hwy 182.


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I grabbed my phone and was playing around with it when I heard a voice. The road noise completely masked the driver that approached right next to my bike. Startled, I looked up abruptly and identified a nice looking middle aged gentleman sitting in the driver’s seat with the window down. He’s wearing overalls and a welder’s cap, and a well groomed gray beard suits his look well. He’s driving a mid 90s Toyota 4wd pickup truck with a mild lift kit and some nice looking tires and wheels. The paint is faded and the truck has a few beauty marks on it. But in one second, I could tell that this guy took very good care of this truck and I bet it runs like a top.

(Pants) “I’m sorry I couldn’t hear what you said, sir,”

(Gentleman) “I say are you lost?”

(Pants) “No sir, I’m just taking a break, waiting for this fog to lift.”

(Gentleman) “They tell me that this old store is going to re-open soon.”

(Pants) “I was wondering about this building.”

He shuts the engine off on his truck as he rest his arm on the door in the window opening.

(Gentleman) “My name’s Larry. That’s a pretty motorcycle.”


Over the next 15 minutes, Larry and I had the most wonderful conversation. We started talking about motorcycles. He told me about this guy he knows that was killed in a bike wreck. And that guy he knows that rode his Harley to New Mexico. I shared some of my own bike experiences with him as well.

Larry is retired as an oil field welder about 5 years ago. He still likes to work with metal, and will help a friend or neighbor out whenever he is asked. He also likes to hunt and today, he was on his way to a family field to check a dove food plot he is working.

(Larry) “I see you were playing with your phone. Do you know anything about that facebook stuff?”

(Pants) “No I don’t. I’ve been avoiding facebook like the plague. I must be the only one in my family that doesn’t do it. My son is very good at it.”

(Larry) “Well, I’ve got to learn about it. My granddaughter is 11 and she’s starting to play with it.”

(Pants) “And you want to play with her on facebook.”

(Larry) “Not quite. You see, my daughter is a drug addict. Her mother and I have tried everything we can, but she won’t stop. So we’ve made our peace with it. At least she was smart enough to let us adopt Madison. Thinking about what this kid has seen in her short life – it’s just terrible.”

(Pants) “I’m so glad you and your wife are able to take care of her.”

(Larry) “Yeah – at 67, I’ve lost a lot of energy, but Maddie keeps me hopping. Now she wants to do this facebook stuff and I’m worried about keeping her safe.”

(Pants) “I think you can set some limits on her facebook account. I just don’t know how to do it. I’m sorry.”

(Larry) “Well my wife is supposed to call someone tomorrow and get some pointers.”

(Pants) “I’m sure it will be just fine.”

(Larry) “Well I best be moving on. It was nice meeting you. Have a good day.”

(Pants) “Larry, the pleasure was all mine. You have a good one too.”

I watched him turn onto the road and accelerate out of sight. I felt a lump in my throat that just wouldn’t swallow. What a wonderful man Larry is. I’m sure he has been through so much with his daughter and his granddaughter. Even though I don’t know her, I picture Madison as this lovely innocent girl with a troubled past. I’m sure she is upset and even mad about her mother. I hope she is happy today, wherever she is.

I realized how petty my problems are. I mean I don’t have anything specific to gripe about now. It’s just that I’m so quick to complain. I’m so impatient at times about the simplest stupid trivial matters. It’s really stupid of me. There are so many people out there like Larry with real problems. I should spend more time being thankful and less time bitching.

The fog lifted a little so I mounted up and rode slowly to my house, arriving about 9:30 am. I spent 2 hours cooking a nice lunch for my family. About noon, my kids arrived and we sat down to eat. I must admit I was very quiet during lunch. I found myself thinking about Larry and Madison, hoping they were fine. I also enjoyed just listening to my wife and kids talk about nothing while we ate.

But mostly as I ate, I gave thanks for being so blessed.

Stay thirsty, my friends……

 
Miserable day to ride the ferry from Anacortes to Orcas Island, then to Lopez Island, and finally back to Anacortes. Met a group of Harley riders from Spokane who had come across the North Cascades Highway for the Oyster Run. One of them was beautifully painted in skulls and roses. Two of them had mechanical problems. They were going to Orcas like me to ride up Mount Constitution.

I had lunch at the top of Mount Constitution on Orcas Island: Salami with horseradish on rye, a jalapeno, an apple, a couple of chocolate chip cookies, and a bottle of orange juice, looking at this god-awful view of Mount Baker:

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Went to Deer Harbor, then over to Lopez Island to Lopez Village and Spencer Spit. Finally, back to Anacortes for some Teryaki and home on the slab in the dark.

Retirement beats the hell out of working for a living!

 
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I was just privileged to ride a little over 3,600 miles going to and from Reuben Run 5. I had a great visit with my son and Granddaughter Rose in Portland before meeting Harper for the ride to La Pine. We shared a great ride, though I did come down with a cold. The trek down USFS 46 and then over the Old McKenzie Pass was fabulous. My two days laying in bed in La Pine restored my health. FJRay and I did a little maintenance on Sunday morning. Forks have never worked so good! On Monday I was privileged to ride through Southern Oregon and a lot of Northern California with the Founder and President of the CBA. I set the route and one of our few stops and my only picture for the entire trip was here in Onion Valley on the infamous Laporte Quincy Road. Onion Valley was one of my Dad's favorite spots in the world. He would pull his travel trailer up here when it was hot in the Central Valley and just sit and chill.

Thank you Don Carver, for a great day and for snapping this picture.
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For my birthday, a friend kept my daughter (18 months) and we are a left for we Sarthe, countries of rillette and 24h of Le Mans ...

From my home it's represents a small ride of 500 km.

We made this trip with my uncle and aunt!

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Keepin' the thread alive ....

Been a few years since the big trip north and got the itch again - and got the okay from the wife - so with no definite route in mind, I headed east (starting in Duluth) over Lake Superior and proceeded as far as Quebec City. Then, I headed southeast a bit, crossed the border in northern Maine. I'd never been that far out east - the riding in upstate Maine/New Hamp./VT/NY was really incredible! I worked my way west trying to avoid interstates (which gets tough south of Lake Erie). I took a right in Detroit (after visiting the Henry Ford Museum) back into Canada, crossed Lake Huron on the ferry (to Manitoulin Island), hung a left back in Canada, re-entered the US at Sault Ste. Marie, rode the tunnel of trees, and then scooted up for a lap around the Keweenaw Peninsula. Mr. Happy smiled the whole trip, even though we had to sleep on a picnic table ('stich hotel) one night. All in all, a great trip (10 days - 4700 miles - camped 8 - motel - 2). Oh yeah, would've taken the FJR but I've decided that the Super T is better for me on the long days - very easy to stand and opens up gravel roads.

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https://gisdata.nrri.umn.edu/pers/pm/easttrip_2016/100_0730.JPG

 
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Ride to EOM 2016

(one picture... lots more words)

See... there was this thing they call EOM that happened last weekend in Wytheville, Virginia. Well, Josie and I had never before ridden any of Skyline Drive, nor the upper part of the Blue Ridge Parkway. We'd tried to do the Parkway once before (with MEM), after the EOM in Cumberland Falls, KY starting from the bottom end down in Cherokee, SC, but it was on a very warm September Sunday, and the traffic caused us to run away and hit the slab north. Those of you who know me at all, know that really means something, as I hate the slab, and avoid it whenever possible.

So, reserved our places at EOM, and made our travel plans, mapped out some GPS routes, and managed to pull in a few other NE folks that liked the plans enough to come along for the ride. We headed out for points south last Tuesday morning at 8 AM with the ionbeams (Alan and Helen) and the bbdigs (Jack and Jane) in tow, all three of us riding 2-up. Took some made-up routes on a bunch of back roads that I'd never been on before, south and west through MA, Western CT and NY, and we landed for the night in Hazleton, PA.

It was a pretty long first day; 380 miles in a shade over 11 hours of riding time, with no stop for lunch, just gas and butt breaks every couple of hours, and eating snacks along the way. We could have just slabbed it down to Front Royal in one fell swoop, and probably less elapsed time, but where's the fun in that? That first day ride was fun, but just an appetizer for the main course the rest of the week.

We stayed at the Candlewood Suites in Hazleton, which was a nice hotel perched up on a hillside that gave us nice views, but that also meant walking back up that hill after dinner at the Top of the 80's restaurant across the street. The place's name is because of the view from the (also elevated) dining room of the distant intersection of I-80 and I-81. The restaurant was only so-so, and a tad pricey, IMO, but the Candlewood's restaurant / tavern had recently closed for one reason or another, so walk up and down the hill we must.

~ ~ ~

Wednesday morning we did hit the dreaded slab for just about 3 hours from Hazleton to the top of Skyline Drive, as this was part of my "plan" to ride on Skyline in the clear afternoon, and thereby avoid starting out on it in the early morning fog and mist and risk missing some of the views. That plan worked to a tee.

As many of you already know, ionbeam had been "negotiating" getting a custom seat built from long before this trip, but the vendor missed his drop dead deadline, and so he was stuck riding the stock seat. Helen had an AirHawk cushion that seemed to help, but Alan, for whatever reason, was "roughing it" to put it mildly. Day 1 hadn't been too bad for him, but... well, being a Candy Ass rider spoiled by Russell Day Long seats myself, I can tell you that the stock seat is most definitely a cumulative pain in the ass. Some may recall the Rube Goldberg-esque seat topper contraption that I fabricated for my bike back in the fall of 2014, while I was waiting for my Russell build.

By the time we reached Front Royal, even with an hour long breakfast break at the half way point, the discomfort he was feeling was palpable from the opposite side of the gas station parking lot where he'd gone to vent his frustration. After another lengthy break, we resumed our ride, paid the Ranger the $15 NP fee (those other Geezers had their lifetime passes) and got onto Skyline Drive.

At one of the first of the many scenic overlooks, I stopped and asked Alan if he would mind leading us along, since they had ridden it previously and would know all of the "must stop" locations, but also because that way he could stop us for butt breaks as required. That seemed to work well, and we took our time doodling down the Appalachian ridge-line, taking in the picturesque views and stopping at, or at least rolling through, most of the overlooks long enough to take it all in and grab a quick photo or two.

When we rolled into the first overlook after crossing the interchange with US Route 211, who did we spy just taking his helmet off but none other than the honorary Long Island Chapter of NERDS President, BigOgre (Mike M). Mike had just rolled in off of route 211 and was taking a short break before starting his solo ride down the Skyline. We had planned to hook up with him that night at our hotel stop in Waynesboro to join us for the rest of ride down the BRP starting the next day, but lady luck arranged for us to hook up for the ride down Skyline Drive too. How cool was that?

We continued down through the park, and towards the end swapped back the lead position as the day wore on, as Alan knew that I wouldn't hit quite as many of the turnouts, and we were all suffering from sensory overload and a desire to get to the hotel stop for the night. Stayed at the Holiday Inn Express (HIE) in Waynesboro, VA, which was the priciest night of the week for us. The hallways of the hotel were being renovated, but the rooms were finished out fine inside. Dinner was at an Outback Steakhouse. It just like all the other Outbacks. What more can you say?

~ ~ ~

Thursday AM after partaking heavily of the FCB (Free Continental Breakfast) at the HIE, we loaded up the bikes and headed on down the BRP, PDQ.

It was a wonderfully crisp and clear morning, not too many foggy spots to deal with, as we rolled along down the northern miles. I led the little group from the start, and we stopped every 45 minutes or so for B3s ('beam butt breaks) and rolled through the better looking overlook turnouts along the way. I figured if we stopped more often from the beginning it might hold off their butt pain for a little while.

Stopping at the Peaks of Otter Lodge for one such break, who did we spy gearing up there but our good NERDS friends Asphalt Junky (Paul) and his lovely bride Gina McD (Gina McD). They had headed down even earlier in the week, and had been hiking and biking around and off the Parkway, and were getting ready to roll on over to Wythe(s)ville for EOM. Serendipity was surely on our side this week.

So we rode along with them, but only for a short while, as they soon turned off towards Roanoke for fuel and to head west, and took the 'beams along with them, as Alan and Helen had decided to separate from our little tour group and ride on their own to head on in to EOM on Thursday as well.

We had other plans, and continued along down the Parkway as far as Blowing Rock, NC that day. We did hit a little mist, that turned into a light rain that afternoon, but it was not too bad at all, and kept the afternoon temps in check.

We stayed at the reasonably priced HIE in Blowing Rock, which felt like a fairly new place. Had our BYO cocktails in their stone fire-placed living room just off the lobby, then walked on over to have a great BBQ dinner right next door at the Woodland BBQ and Pickin' Restaurant, where we were serenaded by a pretty good cover guy on acoustic guitar through dinner.

After dinner we re-gathered in the living room and watched the NE Patriots decimate the Texans on Thursday Night football on the hotel's big screen TV while sipping a little first rate bourbon that Mikey had brought along with him. It is one of my all time favorites: Woodford Reserve Double Oaked. Pricey, but well worth it. Both the hotel and restaurant (and the bourbon) are highly recommended any time you'll be passing through the area.
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~~~

Friday AM was another beauty. We gorged on the eerily similar HIE FCB and jumped back on the BRP headed south-er. The air was approaching cold as we rode along and attained some altitude. Coming around one corner was the Bear Den Overlook with a view that I could not get enough of. This view is a great synopsis of our Ride-in to EOM

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(L to R) BigOgre, Jane, Jack, and Josie, enjoying the moment and the view.

We continued along down the parkway and took the short ride up to the top of Mt Mitchell when we got there. The 360 degree views are well worth the short diversion of riding up to the top of the highest mountain top east of the Mississippi river. While it is not as prominent as our own Mt Washington in New Hampshire, and so does not get the extreme weather situation that is nearly always present up there, it is none the less an impressive mountaintop destination.

Not long after coming down off of Ole' Mitch (we're on a first name basis don't ya know...) we turned off of the Parkway just shy of Asheville, NC onto Ox Creek Rd. over to US 19 as a bypass of the city, then on up NC 197 into the Pisgah National Forest. There were a few signs early on 197 warning trucks of the unpaved roads ahead, but being intrepid FJR NERDS (New England Riders of Dual Sports) we were not deterred. We were initially treated to about 5 miles of loose gravelly switch backs, climbing up to the height of land, but on the back side it was all 1st gear smoothly paved twisty, goodness. What a hoot!

Continued up 197 to a whole bunch of other awesome goat trail back roads, eventually running into a bunch of other riders who were out for the day on loop rides from EOM. Arrived in to the Ramada Wythe(s)ville a little after 5PM and ready to start the rally. But that is surely for a different "One Picture Ride Report".

 
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Was planning on doing a full ride report but most of my photos came out horrible so a "ONE Picture ride report" it is...

Had a long work week away (installing a new machine near Hartford, CT) and Saturday was forecast to be a fine autumn day in New Hampshire. Perused the ADVriders Tag-O-Rama threads looking for an idea for a destination, and found that one tag was currently at the historic Cheshire Railway train depot in Troy, NH, and another was at the Ashuelot Village covered bridge in Winchester, NH. Both of these locations are along the ride route that we used to run, on this very weekend for several years past, as the fall foliage Covered Bridges of NH group ride. It was too late to call up any of the other NERDS to come along, and too cold for TMJ's liking either, so I geared up and headed out to grab a couple of tags and attempt to take some photos of the bridges in their fall colors.

Unfortunately, the only photo that came out well on my Kodak Z812IS digital camera was the first one, on the way to the traditional route starting location of Hancock, and as you can clearly see, even this one is somewhat foggy. This is known as the County Bridge on Forest Road, near the Greenfield / Hancock line.

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As you can see above, although the day was somewhat overcast, the still early, fall colors were "all that and then some" especially in the low lying, swampy areas. Early colors tend to run to the oranges and reds, etc., and are usually my favorite ones. The golds, yellows and browns tend to come later on.

I followed the traditional Covered Bridges route which brought me through the small town of Troy, for the Train Depot tag that I sought. There was a fall foliage festival in full swing, so I got my tag photo on my iPhone, posted it on ADVriders via Tapatalk, and got the heck out of there.

I continued on the route through the 6 covered bridges that span the Ashuelot River in the southwest corner of New Hampshire: Carlton, Cresson (aka Sawyer's Crossing), Thompson (aka West Swanzey), which is closed for repairs right now, Slate, Coombs, and the white Ashuelot Village Bridge, where we always stopped for our group photo each year, and I attempted to take a photo of each. But somewhere along the way, probably while stowing it in my tank bag, I had bumped the camera's mode knob and it was stuck somewhere between "Aperture" and "Shutter" priority modes all day, so the photos all came out kind of blurry.

Posted the tag photo of the Ashuelot Bridge and then continued on my route up through Chesterfield, where I dropped the tag at the old stone Town Hall, not far from the grab,wanting to keep it fairly far south for the pending cooler weather.

When I stopped for lunch in Walpole (yes, it was at the traditional Diamond Pizza) I checked in on the threads on ADVriders, and saw that Big Ogre had checked in and posted only this: <sigh>. For a while I thought that maybe he had ridden up from Long Island and I had Bruced him on the Ashuelot tag, but as it turned out he was still at home and was just a bit wistful of my riding around through the scenery all day. Sorry Mikey!
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I decided to drop the NH tag on Brook Road, which is a fun little curvy connector between Rte 10 in Goshen and Route 103 in Sunapee. It had been recently paved, last year sometime as I recall, and is still in very good shape. And speaking of fresh pavement, Rte 123A, the curviest road in New Hampshire, has all been recently repaved. If you'd ridden it any time recently it will be a special treat to run it without the grass poking up between the rips and cracks. It was only an overlay of asphalt, so it will probably be all F'ed up again after this winter, so best get out and enjoy it soon.

Also on the fresh pavement alert is Cold River road which runs from the east end of 123A up to Lempster. Most of it is fresh except for a short section at the Lempster border, and it is a hoot to run when it's dry and clear. Just watch out for the loose leaves in the blind corners.

After rolling past Lake Sunapee, I aborted the ride route and just headed back to the barn. It was a fun day of solo riding and sight seeing, and the colors were pretty great, even if the photos aren't available to prove it.
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For the last few years, I've been riding an SS1K on the first day of each new season. Back on the first day of Fall (September 22nd), I rode north up US-395 to Topaz Lake near the Nevada border, then headed west on CA-89 and CA-4 over to visit my youngest son, who lives in Albany (just north of Berkeley). We had a nice dinner, then I headed back over to I-5 to grind out some interstate miles, then cutover eastwards on CA-58 to work my way back home in Apple Valley.

I stopped at the summit of Ebbetts Pass on CA-4 for this shot. All the Sierra pass roads a fun, but Hwy 4 has always been my favorite.

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