Half Way There September 27, 2007

About half way there. Spending the night with by daughter in Shawnee, KS (KC area). Man I hate riding in the big city traffic!

Ready for the Run to the Rally on the River September 25, 2007

Packed up the bike for a test run to see if everything would stay on.

Entry for September 19, 2007

Picture: Paul finds a new friend. Thanks to Joyce for the pictures.

The following is Richard's ride report, not a whole lot that I can add:

Guys - It sure looked like rain as we headed west out of Lindsborg. I had just checked the weather on my computer and it gave a clear weather forecast for today so I was upset with what I saw ahead of us that we would be running into within a few miles. Not twenty minutes out, and fog was so thick I literally could not see the top of a cell phone tower we passed.

I had mentioned to the guys that we might just take a side trip to Little River for coffee since we had all the time in the world this morning to get to Chase on time so when we passed the old familiar mule farm (really), I turned south. It continued to look ominous for a few more miles but gradually lightened up even though it didn't quite clear up. But, we were getting out of the woods at least.

Five of us hit Little River about ten or a bit past and parked across the street from the cafe. We would be their only customers while there.

"Would you folks like coffee?" doesn't seem like such a hard question but by the time we all had sampled our thought process aloud, the poor waitress nearly gave up in a fit of confusion. Finally there were four hot chocolates and a roll with two plates and then another and then another with two plates and give him the ticket..........no wait.............aarrrgh. Actually the waitress was quite accommodating, we were just confusing.....being silly ROMEOS that we are.

Forty minutes of this and we were back on the bikes heading west. Chase was just past Lyons so there was no hurry. We got there to find three bikes already ahead of us. They were already inside eating we rightfully assumed. Then, here came a few from the north that were at the end of the street filling up at the local pump-n-pay and then a few more began showing, but.....no Alan! His own home town and Alan didn't even appear. Must have had advance warning we were coming and wanted to disassociate himself to the locals of this bunch of rowdies.

Fifteen bikes eventually lined the sidewalk in front of the place and with my pillion, sixteen partook of a wonderful buffet prepared just for our benefit. There was no waiting here, we worked our way right through. Sixteen or twenty-six would have made no difference to this food crew. They were on top of it! Near the best service of any place we have ever been, and a very small crew I might ad. They just did everything right! I felt a bit sad that ten chicken fried steaks went uneaten but hopefully they will end up in tomorrows gravy.

People are getting acquainted and I'm happy to see that. I've noticed that we are beginning to visit with each other more than just our closest personal friends.

On a note of interest, I was intrigued by the fact that 'Beemer Bill' showed up on a brand spanking new '07' V-Strom after having just sold his old one he had so carefully accessorized. His only answer on doing it all over was to add a bit of stimulus to the sagging economy.

Greg Painter from Grantville rode 210 miles over and blew away any one else's chance for high mileage. Avin George of Oxford was second with 157 while his riding buddy Junior Wege was showing only seven miles less at 150. Arlyn Lindquist on a beautiful yellow BMW

F650 hardly got his oil warm on the trip over from Windom reporting a scant 32, the closest

from home.

Outside after lunch the banter continued for some time 'till a threesome decided they were tired of standing. These three decided to do a three stooges act of criss crossing their legs in unison for the cars that paced up and down main street gawking at the group. All in good fun and typical of a bunch of 'wild and crazy guys'.

No lunch is complete without ice cream and today was no different. A quick spin back to Lyons where we pulled into the Sonic, dismounted and had a continuation of the meeting on the neat, shady outdoor tables on the runway..... complete with it's own order board. The order board, by the way, had a credit card swiper which Paul could never get to activate by using his drivers license. Any ideas?

Bike of the week is again............RED. I almost knew it when Bob Lee pulled in on his Gold Wing. Joyce confided in me the real reason though, and it had nothing to do with color. It was sentiment. Yep, that's what it was. She said she had picked his beautiful restored classic CB350 Honda as BOW in Oxford but when Juniors granddaughter came down the street riding her 'Indian' with training wheels, she knew she had to pick her and her bike. Bob, at the time, even knew there was no way he could have trumped that to win. This then, she said, was for sentimental reasons for a prior ride. I only asked if that was fair and was told to mind my own business. I'm in charge of the Bike of the Week selection and I'll do it on my own terms. So there you have it! It's all legal!

End of Trip Wrap up and Rant September 14, 2007

Picture: Shenandoah Valley from Skyline Drive

I got back home on Wednesday, Sep 12th and having had a few days to reflect on the trip it's time for some random thought, observations and comments. The Dubya got hauled from Kansas to Virginia to Georgia and back to Kansas for a total of about 2500 miles. This included taking the scenic route from W. Virginia to Virginia to avoid the hellish traffic of I-81 and a side trip through Maggie Valley S. Carolina to visit the Wheels Through Time museum. I put about 500 miles on the Dubya riding in Virginia and Georgia.

Traffic in the East/South is just awful and it is mainly due to the trucks. Someone really screwed when they let the railroads go to seed. A good rail system would keep the trucks off the roads and it wouldn't be half bad. Of course hauling a 400 plus pound motorcycle with a small pickup gives one a little taste of what the big truck have to deal with. Slow and downshift going up hills and speed up running down.

The idiot drivers that won't cut anyone a little slack are also on my list. No one does the speed limit, not even the cops. I finally found that my doing 5 mph under the limit everyone would pass and leave me alone.

Riding a motorcycle in the mountains is great fun until some mouth breathing redneck in a FWD gets on your rear wheel and because he/she has driven the roads all their miserable lives think you should be going as fast as they want to go. They don't have the balls to pass, they just want you to get the hell outa their way.

Two miles after you pull off the Interstate to use some dirty stinking, germ ridden bathroom at a truck stop there will be a nice clean, state maintained, rest stop.

Same thing holds true when you stop for gas, a mile down the road it is cheaper.

It sure would be nice to have some of roads from Virginia and Georgia here in Kansas. A lack of traffic and scenic curvy roads would be the best of both worlds. I get tired of the mountains quickly, it must be those long drop offs.

It is nice to know that when you see haze in Kansas it is naturally occurring and not man made smog.

The view from 4400' atop Reddish Knob

There sure are a lot of Harley’s on the road. I've learned that most of the Harley's have the turn signals on the bars, makes them easier to spot.

Most cruiser riders don't wear helmets or in the states where they have to they wear those stupid half helmets.

I just don't get it, folks will spend 7 or 8 hundred bucks on leather for protection but when it comes to their head they think a do-rag is all they need.

Not that the sporty rider with their helmets, flip-flops and shorts are any smarter.

I guess when you get old and have rubbed your arse on the blacktop a few times you think about these things.

Maybe it is just what you are used to but I like Kansas City BBQ better than Georgia BBQ.

Maggie Valley, NC September 07, 2007

Picture: Hey no camera remember, none to borrow.

Maggie Valley, NC, home to the Wheels Through Time museum (http://www.wheelsthroughtime.com/), is a typical mountain tourist town. Motels, restaurants, gift shops all stretched along the main drag and in this case a lot of catering to motorcycles. Unbeknown to me there were two rallies going on this weekend, on in MV, the other in a nearby town. Thunder in the Smokies was the name of the MV rally. They must have copied it from Marquette's Thunder ON the Smokey. Harley's were the dominate brand of course with small groups cruising by as I relaxed in front of my motel room. Full face helmets were as rare as sport bikes and loud pipes were the norm. I saw a few Wings, some trikes, choppers, a couple of cool old hand shift HDs and one Boss Hoss.

I was the second person to arrive at the museum just at opening time and someone was moving the World's Largest Motorcycle. It's a huge mock up of a chopper that really runs. That someone turned out to be Dale Walksler, the curator and moving force behind the museum. As I was getting out of the truck he came over and introduced himself and checked out the Dubya. We talked a few minutes before he had to be about his business, nice guys. I was him several times during my visit talking to folks and in general being a good host.

The Wheels Through Time museum is quite different from Barber Motorsports in that there are many original condition bikes, it doesn't have the glitz as Barber. There were only USA made bikes too with Harley's having the most. What was interesting to me was the other thing related to the brands, like the Indian chain saws and homemade Harley powered airplanes. Now that would take a lot of guts, going up in an airplane with a '49 HD engine.

My tour complete I bought a raffle ticket for the 1936 Harley VLH-80 in./Flat Head from the aging tattooed biker chick with the modified chest; picked out a T-shirt and struck out for Athens, GA.

Hartwell, GA September 08, 2007

My never ending quest for the perfect BBQ took me to Hartwell, GA for lunch today. I led the way from Athens on the Dub followed by daughter Pam on her 750 Honda Shadow with her friend Kerrie on her H-D Soft Tail Deuce.

About 45 miles of fine Georgia back roads later we rolled into Hartwell, a little lake town near the Georgia/South Carolina line. Our lunch spot was Backyard BBQ, a real Southern joint with a container of light bread, plastic forks, paper towels and a pitcher of sweettea (yes, that is one word in Georgia) sharing the tables with the BBQ sauce and other normal condiments. The menu consisted of several different combinations of BBQ, slaw and stew. For the uninformed BBQ is shredded and chopped pork. There is no choice of brisket or chicken, BBQ is BBQ. Now the stew is called Brunswick stew, an unknown concoction of very tasty meat based stuff. Why the stew with BBQ is a mystery, I was told that's just the way it is in Georgia. I would have preferred fires but that's just the way it is.

There was no way we could eat all of our meal and unfortunately take home wasn't an option on the bikes. We took hwy 172 all the way back to Athens, it was a nice ride with very little traffic and just enough big sweeping turns to keep you on your toes. A pleasant contrast to riding in the mountains where the long drop offs await if you screw up. A nap looks good about now, maybe ice cream later.

Skyline Drive, Virginia September 05, 2007

Picture: The hazy view from Skyline Drive

Today being Wednesday I decided to have myself a ROMEO ride. I chose a place that I had gone by a few times. Not your typical ROMEO haunt but a nice clean BBQ joint named Hank's Smokehouse, www.hankssmokehouse.com. Since it was only 10 miles from my daughter's house a little pre-lunch ride would be in order.
Skyline Drive is part of the Blue Ridge Parkway and the entrance to the southern third is only 25 miles east of Harrisonburg. My plan was to ride to the southern entrance then take public roads back north to Hank's. The SLD is an old road so I wasn't surprised then the ranger on the gate warned me about the 15 miles of maintenance I would have to navigate. With a speed limit of 35mph I didn't think it would be a problem. By the time I reached to "loose gravel" sign I had been lulled into sight seeing mode by all the scenic pull outs and gentle curves. The first time things got a little twitchy I woke up and payed more attention to the task at hand.
With the SLD behind be is back to higher speed limits, worse roads and tailgating drivers. Some of these backwoods pickup jocks can flat fly over the little two lanes. I gave them plenty of room and keep a more leisurely pace, enjoying the sights as I plodded along.
By the time I worked my way back to Hank's I had logged 127 miles and worked up a powerful taste for some BBQ. I only hoped that it wasn't "Southern" style, that vinegar based sauce doesn't do much for my BBQ longings. Luck was with me and it was more of a KC style and other than the slightly dry bun on the pulled pork sandwich it was excellent.
I'll be loading up the Dub and heading to Georgia in the morning with more great riding coming up.