Send us your tales. It makes good winter reading and reminds us of our varied riding experiences.
|Another old ride story (Spiderman)||Re: Yikes...... (V-MAN)|
|The Mt. Washington Story
|Hoy - here's a ride from the past (Scottie)|
|More ancient stuff by request.......(Hoy)||Short Story (RonBou)|
|Motorcycling Beginnings (Hoy)||1981 Ride (RonBou)|
|I owe, I owe... (Junior)||I owe, I owe, Part Du... Junior|
|Ok time for another one....(Spiderman)||time for another story I guess (Spiderman)|
|My first NE VRCC ride. (long) (Orca)||Back to Reality (Raybo)|
Another old ride story
Posted By: Spiderman <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 11/26/2003 at 13:51:32
The stories below about weird / crazy rides brings one to mind. In 1978, I bought a brand new Kawi KZ1000. A brute of a bike as I'm sure you know. I loved the thing, and got it in early April that year. My friend had a camp up in Warren NH (Hoy knows where I mean). We'd often head up there to party and raise hell. One such trip came up right after I got the bike, and I said damn I am riding up, so what if it's cold? Off I went Friday night, with a friend riding pillion to boot. It was cold, but I was 22 and full of P*** and vinegar and didn't care a bit. I got off 93 in Plymouth NH and it starts to snow. Hard. I got down to a traffic circle on Rt 25 west of Plymouth, and it was accumulating on the road pretty good. I was getting a little worried now. I followed a car and stayed in his tracks all the way to Warren, kept having to brush the snow off my face shield. Probably 20-30MPH the whole way.( No windshield... we don't need no steenking windshields.. ya right). 20 miles up the road in Warren it was 3 inches deep on the road, my car in front of me turned off, and I had to climb a pretty good grade to get up to Lake Armington where the cabin was. It was scary going up that hill, had my feet down, rear end fishtailed once or twice, and I think the guy on the back gave me some extra traction. When I got up into the hills there was quite a bit of old snow left, couldn't ride down the dirt road to the cabin, so I plowed the bike into a snow bank and walked in.. that was that. Snow did eventually taper off. I rode home Sunday and got nailed speeding by a trooper on I-93, I was freaking out cause I had about 5 beers in my inside coat pockets and he never noticed. Not that I was drinking em,..I wasn't, but I had no place else to pack em and when you are 22 and broke you don't throw beer away. I cringe when I think about the stuff I did back then. But I also smile. That was a fun bike, I put 40000 miles on it in 2 years, and then made the mistake of riding up the Mt. Washington Auto Rd. But that's a story for another cold night.
Posted By: V-MAN
Date: 11/26/2003 at 10:19:37
A long, long time ago in a land far away ...
My car (71 Comet w/302 Boss stuffed under the hood)
was totaled by some drunk that rear ended me. Not only was that car my baby but it was
winter time. My only other method of transportation was a 78 Yamaha 650 Special. Great
bike, lots of power but NOT what I wanted to be using for commuting to and from work. I had
just met Kim probably a couple months before I lost the Comet. Imagine going on dates in
the winter by motorcycle. Many times we would stop at various mall and such to get warm
and dry under the hand dryers in restrooms! I never had Kim on the back when really icy or
snow covered roads existed - but going to work and back many times both feet planted on
the ground and sort of "ski" there! Most defiantly older and wiser from that
The Mt. Washington Story
Posted By: Spiderman
Date: 11/27/2003 at 21:18:35
Ok, hope you'll bear with me. I seem to have the writers bug lately.
Here's the next installment in the "adventures of Spiderman"
I hate to tell you this but I've got some more.
Some of them are on the hairy edge of social acceptability so I guess I
might have to decide later whether to post em or not.
Hoy got me going about the riding in the snow story, and I mentioned then
that my good old KZ1000 and I went up the Mt Washington Auto Road. It
didn't turn out well. But over 20
years later my friends still like to razz me about it.
In 1980, after 2 years on that bike, me and the boys were doing our
annual summer trip. Invariably, we ended up in the White Mountains, and one day
rode over from the camp in Warren to do the Auto Road.
We left pretty early in the morning and got there probably 10:30 or so.
Paid our admission and headed on up after being warned about the wind on top.
Naturally we ignored the warning. We
did pretty well for a while but once we got above treeline the wind was indeed
howling. Not only that, but my air cooled Z1 wasn't liking working hard and was
overheating pretty good. Knocking, pinging, clutch slipping.
Not fun. I was stuck behind a Cadillac with Fred and Ethel and their
little pooch doing about 1.6 MPH, which added to the pain. Trying to ride an
overheating bike at a crawl in high wind is.... interesting! Sort of like
the "slow drag from hell" if you've ever seen one of those contests.
I finally stopped dead on a little pullout and shut it off. Tried to
start it.... too hot. So we all sat there a few and after 10-15 minutes it did
start again. The whole time we were
getting sandblasted by the dirt off the road. I was cursing away... "who's
f**ing idea was this anyway?" I yelled. "it was yours Craig"...
oh.... right. We made it to the top finally and hung out a
while enjoying the view. Somewhere I got a picture of the 5 of us up
there, it was really funny.. all of us had really long hair, and the wind was
just blowing it sideways, and the pic caught that. It looked like the cover to a
rock album. Anyway, now it's time to go down. Same deal, using the
compression and trying to not abuse the 1970's-technology brakes. Suddenly, the
bike lurches to a stop. I had a sweatshirt bungeed to the seat, and the sleeve
worked loose, got caught in the chain, and sucked the whole damned thing into
the front sprocket. STOOOOOPID!!! So,
stop again, bike on centerstand ( facing downhill with one guy standing in front
of the bike with his heels dug in so it would not roll off the stand), rotate
wheel backward, extract remains of shirt. Once again get sandblasted on the side
of the road. ( Whose idea was this anyway) It seemed to run ok, but later that day I noticed oil
leaking. There is a little access
cover to the gearbox behind the sprocket and it got cracked in this event. I was
able to replace it pretty easily
the next day... along with the chain and sprockets which I figured were toast,
too. It was an adventure, but I am not keen on riding up there again in that
kind of wind. I am thinking 60 mph or so is what it blew that day.
The bike was never the same after that. It was tired and blowing oil, and
I sensed it was going south. At the end of the season I traded it in for an 81
Kz1100 with shaft drive ( no chain to get stuff stuck in ....attractive!)...
which I still own, believe it or
not. Everyone has seen those bumper
stickers that say " This car climbed Mt. Washington". When I see one, I always think I'd never buy a vehicle with
that sticker on it... it means the thing is abused!
Hoy - here's a ride from the past
Posted By: Scottie <email@example.com>
Date: 12/1/2003 at 09:58:45
I haven’t been riding motorcycles too long so to find a harrowing ride these past 24 years isn’t as easy a task as one might think. Now I could go back in time 40 or so years to the early 60’s when I was racing my Grandmother in her Comet down the street on my older brothers Vespa and crashed when I hit some sand, but I’ll let that one slide. One ride does come to mind however.
It was probably mid March about 8 or 9 years ago. It was a really mild day. A few weeks earlier I was visiting my Mom down in Connecticut and brought the new cat down with us. Well to my surprise the cat got out and ran off. Being a cat lover I was devastated.
Well here comes this mild March day a few weeks later so I get the bug to hop on the Wing and head south and hunt for the cat. I’m riding I-95 south through Rhode Island and I see what I think is smoke crossing the highway. Someone must be burning yard rubbish. Well I pass through where the smoke was and I don’t smell a thing. Then just up ahead I see more smoke. Well this time it was still there when I passed through it, but it wasn’t smoke. It was a snow squall!
I don’t give it much thought as it was just a squall and it stopped. As I got further into Connecticut the snow started up again and this time it wasn’t a squall. Since it wasn’t sticking to the road I go on. I finally get down to Madison where the grass and woods are all white and the roads still just wet except maybe along the curbs. I get off the main road, wind through the woods, cross the brook, and wind up the hill and up the steep driveway and park the bike in the garage.
Now my Mom wasn’t home and I knew she wouldn’t be home for another week as she was out in New Mexico visiting my sister. Well if I found the cat I could have either thrown her in the Wing’s trunk or locked her in the house and come back the next day with a car. Anyhow I didn’t really plan this too well as is evident by continuing in the snow.
After brief search and warming up in the house I realized that the snow was starting to stick to the drive. Bundling back up I decided it was time to head back home. The ride down the drive was my first skiing experience with the Wing. Not only did I almost wear out the soles of my boots on her steep drive, I also had the hilly zigzag back road to deal with. Once I got out on the main drag the road was still just wet.
Here I am tooling back up I-95 on my Wing, with snow flying everywhere and now starting to really accumulate on the grass. When I get to Stonington and see the sign for Foxwoods I turn off the highway. Now I’m not a gambler, but off I head to Foxwoods just to see the joint. (I probably should have auditioned for the movie “Dumb and Dumber” at this point.) When I finally come to it, pull into their garage and head into the Casino. I really just wanted to check the place out for my Father-in-law. Well there I am checking out the joint when I look out a window and see nothing but white. The snow was really coming down and the roads were starting to hold the snow. I start kicking myself for stopping, figure its gotta be punishment for thinking of gambling, but it wasn’t for me, I was just being a good Son-in-law. Anyhow I bundle back up (years before I had chaps or even knew about Gerbing’s) and back on Rt2 I go. I sure was glad I had practiced skiing down my Mom’s drive and down her street as that’s what I did most of the way down Rt2 till I got back to I-95. From there back to Boston the roads were just slop.
Well it was a memorable ride, and I’m glad I went through it and survived both the snow and my case of nerves. I’ve thought if it many times since, most recently out in Rocky Mountain National Park, and hopefully I’ve grown wiser because of it. Come to think of it I have … I got me some ‘lectrics
More ancient stuff by request.......
Posted By: Hoy/scud runner <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 12/1/2003 at 23:07:16
A weekend thing at Penn State University in 1967 went like this....
A few of my Navy buddies and I were invited up from Norfolk, VA to see a Janis Joplin concert on campus. One of my friends (Jake) had a friend (Muskrat) who was attending Penn State and he was a member of an unrecognized frat called BEEP, sort of a la Animal House which dedicated itself to anything Blues music. His room was going to be our crashing pad for the weekend. We began preparing for the evening concert that afternoon with lots of music, smoke, beer and wine. Soon after we began to get hungry and Muskrat informed us of this lame frat party going on because of it being pledge week. They had food available so off we went to crash this frat party to eat. It was a toga party and all the guys had cotton mustaches and goatees glued to their faces pretending to be hippies. We all stood out like sore thumbs not being wrapped in a white sheet like the rest and not really looking too academic either so we told them we were friends of ahhh, Bill and just continued to eat and drink some more. I could see my buddy Jake was arguing and taking bets on something from across the room while I fed myself and put some moves on the college girls who strangely found my group rather interesting. Then this crowd from across the room with Jake grinning ear to ear approaches me. This cotton faced asshole says, I hear you think you're pretty good on a motorcycle. Yep, I'm good I said and continued to eat their food and have some more laughs with their girls. So this asshole keeps pressing me to talk motorcycles... and wants to see something cool and getting loud about it. I said look I don't have my motorcycle with me to which he says no problem we'll get ya a motorcycle Mr. Biker. Guess he was kind of thinking this is where I'd be backing down. He mentioned Evil Kenival and his recent movie and how he had road his bike up some front steps and in the front doorway through the hall and up the stairs going to the second floor on a motorcycle. I figured this stunt was what Jake was setting up and taking bets on all along.... and it was. Soon a red and silver 305 Honda Scrambler appeared and the bets were still being made as a path was being cleared for this Kenival like attempt. I was handed the keys and taken to the motorcycle out in the backyard. My first thought was, so this is the new 305 Scrambler and I was real excited to test it out anyway. So here we go! Rather than take the driveway to the front steps I had Jake open these French doors and I did a wheelie through the living room which was accompanied by a loud cheer as I went out the front door and down the steps and into the street where I did a donut and came flying back up the brick steps again and through the doorway and began to ascend these large sweeping steps heading for the second floor. My real concern with the maneuver was keeping the RPM's up and that front wheel light so I had to do a lot of clutch slipping to keep the revs up. The Honda took it all like a mountain goat and when I cleared the last step I still had a good amount of speed and locked up the brakes and laid down a nice skid mark in their lovely second floor hall and then slightly hit a closed door and cracked it. They were all a buzz about what just happened and the cracked door, skid mark and how they were going to get the freaking motorcycle down. Me and the boys made a quick exit with the cash and full stomachs! We went back to BEEP and got really twisted and then attended one of the best concerts of my life a couple hours later. That alone would be the end of a very interesting day. That night it really started to rock and was part two of another great adventure that didn't end till dawn the next day. A fun weekend in Happy Valley, ahhh.. the good old days.
Posted By: RonBou <ronbouNOSPAM@aol.com>
Date: 12/21/2003 at 09:45:56
Not too long ago folks were writing about their first "riding in the snow" experiences. I have one but being as it isn't much of a story I never posted it. I have changed my mind because the board is so quiet lately. So here it is....
PS... I would love some more stories for the "Ride Memories" page on the CT web site...so post away.
Back in 1965 when I was a mere pup I bought a brand new Honda 150 Dream. My mom was dead set against it but my dad who had ridden an HD overseas in WWII overrode her (the only time I can remember him doing that) so off we went to Hartford Honda (later to move and become Manchester Honda). For $506, tax included, I purchased my first of many Hondas.
My precious 56 Chevy convertible was laid up and I had no money to fix it, so the little Honda became my only transportation for a year. I bought the bike in March and it was cold enough that I rode it straight home and put it in the garage rather than putting on a bunch of miles. I rode back and forth to work for about a week. One morning after a cold ride in I was looking out the window around 10:00 A.M. and it was snowing like crazy. We were in the beginnings an unannounced blizzard.
Around 1:00 P.M. they decided to let us out early. There was already about six inches on the ground, including the streets because the plows hadn't been out yet. They were caught unprepared by the early storm. I only had about 20 city blocks to go since I lived and worked in Hartford back then, so I decided I wouldn't leave my new bike at work and ride a warm bus home.
After cleaning off the snow (boy was that seat cold since I was wearing thin dress pants) and 3 or 4 turns of the starter I headed out. The 20 blocks took about 2 hours. The traffic was snarled at every intersection. I have always told this story real short and my only comment was that my feet were down acting like outriggers but as I write this more and more memories are surfacing. The snow was so deep in the streets that I thought I was going to go down a number of times. Finally I got behind a city bus and followed in its right hand tracks. When it stopped to pick up passengers I stopped right behind it still in the tracks. I followed the bus right to my street. I actually don't remember how I got the bike up the driveway and into the garage but I vaguely remember a snow shovel being involved.
Well this was a longer story than I thought it would be. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed the old memories... RonBou
Posted By: Hoy/scud runner <email@example.com>
Date: 12/21/2003 at 13:53:45
I was in the 4th grade when I got my first motorcycle ride which pretty much sealed my fate with the motorcycling bug. As I remember it my sister had just started dating my now brother-in-law and he had a Norton 500cc single which he called his stump puller. Back in those days kids used to walk home from school for lunch and he showed up on the Norton at my house about the time I was ready to start my walk back to school. He said climb on and I'll give you a ride back to school and you know he didn't have to ask me twice! I figured he was just trying to get in real good with my sister by bribing me with a motorcycle ride....boy did his plan worked great. To this day George and I still get along great although the bribes have stopped! For the next key event we have to jump to ahead to me being seventeen. I got a new insurance bill after having lost my license for 90 days for getting 2 speeding tickets within about 3 weeks of each other while driving my car. Man they wanted nearly 400 bucks to insure me again......I couldn't afford that. I did some investigative work and found out motorcycle insurance would run me about $75 dollars for the year. So I ran this idea past my parents and hoped for the best. My mother had been taking the bus to work everyday so I suggested she use my Datsun sports car and for that she only needed to pay me $500 and I would use that to buy a motorcycle and get insurance which I could afford. I figured that could be my new transportation till at some point probably years down the road when I could hopefully afford car insurance again. I did my homework and had a used Honda 250 Scrambler picked out, I knew what the insurance was going to cost and I negotiated hard for the deal. I was putting my odds of success at maybe 25% of pulling this off and after the hard sell and with all the numbers laid out I had won them over. It was agreed I'd get the Honda and so my time of riding motorcycles had began. I can still recall even months after that I couldn't believe I was having so much fun and enjoying life so much. Still to this day both Mom and Pop grin when I pull into their yard on my Valk. Pop loves to sit and just look at the Valk. He tells me it's an amazing machine and that's coming from a man who spent his life as a mechanical engineer. Mom just smiles and says I'm nuts but still enjoys the enjoyment I've had through all these years of riding! They're both 85 years old now and still very cool people to me. To this day most of the real good belly laughs I still get is when I'm with them. I've just been a real lucky man....
While cleaning out boxes of books in my old garage I found a journal I used on my first motorcycle trip. It is sparse but I am going to type it into a file and add what I can remember. The actual journal entries will be in italics and the rest will be my remembrances or comments. Hopefully you will all enjoy it.
It was 1980 and I planned on buying a new Goldwing even though I had never ridden one before. The plan was that in May two of my friends and I would embark on a cross-country tour. I ordered a new GL1100 from Manchester Honda. They couldn't guarantee a March delivery of an Interstate so I went with the bare bones Wing and added Vetter fairing, bags and trunk. When the bike arrived in March the dealer gave me the run around about the fairing and the trunk being on back order so I picked up the bike with just the saddlebags on it. I immediately went to Cycle Gear who back then carried plenty of accessories, and ordered the Vetter stuff. A week later I was in my buddy Pete's heated garage and we put everything together in a couple of nights. Now I could break in the Wing before my trip.
In April one of my buddies backed out of the trip and Pete was hemming and hawing about it also. But...stubborn as I was back then I went ahead with the plans. Got the maps from AA, put an alarm on the Wing, bought a cover for it and picked up a bunch of $$ from the bank.
A week before the trip the weather was going to pot and the outlook was for rain and more rain. I really couldn't change my vacation since the only way, back then, that I could get 5 weeks in a row off was to leave mid May and be back in time for the vacation time rush at work.
I wasn't surprised when the phone rang the night before I was to leave. My buddy Pete didn't want to go because of the weather and wanted to wait a week and go somewhere closer. Now, you need to understand, I needed to take this trip and a buzz to Maine or the Cape wasn't going to do it for me.
I was leaving on a Sunday early in the A.M. but it was pouring out. So I putzed around loading the bike in the rain and finally said goodbye to my roommate around 3:30 P.M.
5/10/81 Sun. 192 miles
Left Htfd. 3:30 - Rained first 40 miles. Started sprinkling other side of Scranton, PA.
Stopped (192 miles) in Dupont, PA. (outside of Wilkes-Barre).
Ate and stayed at Skyliner Motel - Rest.
T-Bone $13.50 w/tip meal = 5
Room $19.08 - Room = 7
Notes: Stopped to check map and have a smoke (in a falling rock area). One hit bike. I left quick.
5/11/81 Mon. 291 miles
Raining HARD. Waited 'til 11:00 A.M. to leave when rain slackened. Hit Rain most of the day. HARD sometimes...what a drag.
Grooved roads SUCK...like going over a steel bridge....for miles at a time. Lots of single lane on 80 due to construction. Not too much of a hassle.
Bike started acting up. Running on all cylinders (only 3 & 4 as it turned out)...but No Power.
Stopped at Youngstown, Ohio. Fairly big town. Should be a Honda dealer near by...there is. 2 or 3 exits down 80. Will try to make it there tomorrow.
Stayed at Best Western $22 + change - Room = 6
Ate at Bundos. - Went full hog. Surf
& Turf - Filet & lobster tail, shrimp cocktail & spaghetti. Spent
about $35 w/ drinks & tip. Worth it though. Excellent food and service.
5/12/81 Tues. 22 miles
Woke up at 4:30. Back to sleep. Ooops, it’s now 10:45 (ckout is at 11:00). Sh*t!!!
One exit up 80 I’m at Warren. Dealer on main drag “Honda of Warren” Nice people!! Coil no good. Took a while to find it. Under guarantee. Paul who works there gave me his #. Got to call at 7…see if his old lady will let him out. Took a space ride with him.
Went back to Best Western (same room). Eating at Bundos right now. Going to try the cavettelli tonight.
PS was raining all night. Not raining in A.M. but looked bad….rain suit again! Back to where I started from this morning. Progress not too good to date. Try to get an earlier start tomorrow.
Oh ya! this morning Bike died on way to dealer (no juice). Pushed it a little and power back on.
Hit a couple of bars with Paul from the dealership. Not much happening. TS brown top (foosball table) at one. Hard balls. Stopped at Dale’s (mechanic at dealership) house w/ a couple of 6’s. Little King Cream Ale & Strophs.
Doing a little partying on a Tuesday
was boring but so much better than a night alone in a motel in a strange town
with no transportation. The folks at Honda of Warren understood I had a new bike
that wouldn’t run and I was on a long trip. They did everything in their power
to make my experience as pleasant as it could be under the circumstances. The
bottom line on the Wing was that one of the two coils drowned from all the rain
I was riding in. Lucky for me the Wing ran good enough on two cyclinders to get
me where I could get help and
didn’t strand me on the side of Rt. 80 in the rain. Boy, I love Honda. J
5/13 Wed. 330 miles
Left Youngstown at 11:00 (I know – late start again). Weather was cool (50-60 range). Sprinkled some late in the day. Not a bad day for cruising. Running a few dollars over budget. Will go easier on the food tomorrow to make up for it.
If it doesn’t rain tomorrow I am going to check out the Indiana Dunes. Try to put on at least 300 miles tomorrow. Staying in Springville Indiana, outside of LaPorte.
Midtown Motor Lodge $19.62 room = 5
Had dinner at a drive in. 8 inch cheeseburger. Couldn’t eat it all. Spent around $6 w/tip and fries.
Still less then a 1/3 way to the coast. Got to start making better time soon. Need good weather!
Just caught the 10 o’clock (11?) weather. Time zone change here, every other TV station has a different time. Looks like rain tomorrow but should be able to drive to good weather in a couple-three hours.
5/14 Thurs 92.8 miles
Pouring again!! Saw part of the Indiana Dunes & Lake Michigan. Wind (I mean WIND) & rain. Made 90 miles and called it quits at 1:30) Finally got up early one morning).
NOTE: All I remember is almost crawling up a dune in the driving rain in my bright yellow Dry Rider rain gear to get a glimpse of the lake. Reminded me of Cape Cod but visibility was poor because of the weather.
Stopped in Ottawa IL
Surrey Motel $17+ Room = 6
Ponderosa and the Colonel across the street Good enough for me. Glad this place has in room coffee. Saves setting up stove. Got clothes hanging all over hell trying to dry them out. Bike misfired a few times. It doesn’t like the rain anymore than I do,
…. Chicken was greasy. $5 for 9 pieces.
Fifth day out and only a 1/3 of the way.
Tomorrows forecast – 65 degrees – Sunny. Hope the wind dies down!
5/15 Fri. 458 miles Lincoln, Nebraska
6th day out. Decent day. Couple of hours of 80 degree temps. Rode in a T shirt. Can’t tell whether I got wind or sun burn…mild…looks good.
458 miles…about time…need to average 300 miles a day to keep within the limits of schedule. Average to date is 227. Couple of nice days and I should up the average. That day in Ohio messed up the avg. Total miles to date – 1363. Hopefully will hit the ½ way point tomorrow. Thundershowers for tonight and tomorrow…we’ll see what happens. Got me a 12 pack (thought it was a king 6) of Coors and some pistachio nuts. Tired! Staying in and watching TV.
Staying at Motel 6 $14.61 Room = 6 B/W TV
Ate supper at the Happy Chef. Had sirloin. Meal = 5 $7 w/tip. Had lunch in Iowa City at Burger Doodle (King). Piece of leftover chicken for breakfast.
Met a couple of dudes from Illinois.
Kaw 1000 and Honda 750. They don’t know where they’re going. Just cruising
and camping. Cruised with them for a couple of hours. Weather man expects 10
inches of snow in the Colorado Mountains this weekend.
NOTE: I remember riding with those
two guys. My old Wing’s speedometer only went to 85 mph and for two hours it
was pegged. These guys never slowed down for traffic, just jumped lanes left and
right. After two hours of this and a couple of close calls (it’s much harder
for the third guy to slip in between the traffic.) I slowed and let them fly.
Never saw them again.
5/16 Sat. 0 miles 7th day
Stayed in Lincoln for another day. Mapped alt. Route to Dallas. If weather remains bad to the west I will head south tomorrow. Should be able to hit Dallas in 13-14 hours of driving – 2 or 3 days max. Checked cycle accessories shop in Lincoln – no boot or glove covers. Rubbers? I got 3 pairs of gloves. Will check it out when I get home.
NOTE: Although I was able to rotate to dry socks and gloves my boots were damp every morning when I put them on. First chance I had when I got home I went to cycle gear and got boot and glove covers…. Would have been nice to have them with all the rain I encountered.
Found a 50 cent car wash – done. A local bar too. Short distance from the motel. Got a German made foos table, but it was jammed. Local type bar. Rednecks, straights & mc people. Maybe will check it out tonight.
NOTE: I have mentioned foosball table a couple of times so I should probably mention that back then I was really into foosball (table soccer). I played in tournaments all over New England and New York state. So whenever I saw a table back then I was hoping to use it as a vehicle to meet people. Also the motel I was staying at was a haven for Saturday night college parties. People wandered the halls and dropped into any room with an open door. I was a little bashful back then. I did walk the halls with a beer in my hand but felt out of place since I was an old man (36) compared to them. So back to my room at this point.
5/17 Sun. 355.7 miles Day 8
Left Lincoln at 10:30. Big breakfast – skip lunch. Arrived in Davenport Iowa around 6:30. Called home and got Gary B’s number in Troy, NY. Holiday Inn room 132 518-274-3210. If weather not too bad will make a detour on the way home. OH! After filling up w/gas I decided to hit 80 East. Fed up w/weather and talking to myself. Got approached by a “gay” tonight at the motel.
Motel 6 $14+
Had dinner at Ground Round. Spent around $15 NY strip, appetizer, desert and tip.
Got a buzz now. Drinking Mr Phibb (by coke) Got caffeine in it! Not bad. Cross between cream/root beer.
NOTE: I also mentioned a gay guy
trying to pick me up when I first arrived at this motel. I hadn’t talked to
anyone for so long that I didn’t realize he was gay until he told me I should
take a shower and he would “take care of me” when I was done. DUH! I asked
him to leave, after he gave me directions to a restaurant, and he thanked me for
not kicking his butt.
5/18 Mon. 370.9 miles
Cold – Windy _ Tough riding! Had to wear mittens for a while. Gas mileage sucked today & yesterday. Headwinds and some 70 mph cruising.
Staying at Best Western in Wausau, Ohio. $24+ room = 7 (coffee maker)
Ate at Smith’s Restaurant. Excellent meal and service. Surf & turf. Lobster tail & sirloin $25 wine/tip/etc.
If it doesn’t rain should be in
Troy, NY by Wed. afternoon.
If it doesn’t rain should be in Troy, NY by Wed. afternoon.
5/19 Tues. 471.4 miles 10th day rode 10:30 A.M. = 9:00 P.M.
Windy, first couple of hours. NO RAIN! In low 60s most of the day. Little cool, but not bad. Needed mittens in A.M. Lots of high speed cruising in PA. 65-75, sometimes faster. Had to…to keep out of the way of trucks. Man, they roll!
Staying at Red Roof Inn $22.50 room = 6
Staying at Red Roof Inn $22.50 room = 6
Ate at 76 Truck Stop around 5:00. Had beef stew over dumpling – good! Chili & coffee $5.99 w/tip.
Felt like riding all night but knew better than to push my luck. Suppose to be in the 70s tomorrow. Hope to get up early & maybe hit Troy in early afternoon. Drinking Chocolate Soldier now – good. (like Yahoo).
2 days in a row…No Rain!
Gas mileage back in the 40s
NOTE: I remember this day as being great weather and I was in “the zone” and didn’t want to stop riding. Even after dark the sky was crystal clear, traffic was light and life was good. Another note: I keep referring to 65+ mph as moving right along. Remember this was back in the days of the nationwide 55 mph limit.
5/20 Wed. 11th day approx 400 miles
Hit Troy about 4:30. Saw Gary B. at the hotel. Table (foos) close by. Put close to 400 miles today. Nice riding most of the day.
NOTE: I remember cruising up the New York Throughway thinking to myself what a great road for a motorcycle as the sun beat down on me and my steed (God, shades of Daniel Meyer ;) )
This was the last entry in my journal. My buddy Gary worked for Burger King (and still does) and his assignment was traveling all around the east coast opening up new Burger Kings and training the store managers. So he had a great suite at the Holiday Inn that his company paid for so put me up for a couple of days. Although I don’t remember too much about Troy, I do remember treating him to a great steak dinner in Albany at a restaurant that I can still picture in my head but cannot remember the name of. I thought it was real classy because instead of bread on your table they had girls walking around with bread trays. You just called them over when you wanted a piece of bread, a roll or even a pack of cigarettes.
When I finally made it home I still had a weeks worth of vacation left so I called my buddy Pete and we did get a 3 or 4 day trip to the Cape in. Those were the days when I was a bad boy and I can remember on our way home from the cape we picked up a 6 pack and I stuck 4 in my fairing as we blasted off. I also remember passing Pete his beers at highway speeds as we tuned ourselves up (don’t try this at home kids).
I was working nights back then and my first night back to work I found out I was being transferred to one of the day shifts temporarily…and they were on a “changeover week” which meant I had another week off. I went home and the next morning my roommate and I were off to cruise RT 1 in Maine for a couple of days. This was the longest contiguous (6 weeks) vacation I had ever, or to this day, been on. Although I never made it to the coast, it was a memorable trip and the re-writing of this has been something I enjoyed. To those of you who actually read this whole thing I thank you for your patience.
I owe, I owe...
Posted By: Junior <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 12/30/2003 at 18:11:22
but damn I type so slow.
Hello everyone, I hope this Holiday season has brought you joy and happiness. And I wish you all a happy and prosperous New Year!
I have felt some what of a thief lately reading your posts (especially first rides) but not making the time to post myself. So while the little woman is off the computer and the "list" is done... well, here goes.
My first ride, or more accurately my first two wheeler that held air in BOTH tires was a 198? honda CB350 4cyl. with 11k on it. I bought it for $100 and was told it needed a regulator, WOW! I thought too good to be true, Yep it was!
Once I got it home and looked a little closer just about every wire on it was fried. Imagine what would happen if you plugged your bike into a wall socket and unplugged it just before it lit up, well, it was enough to crush the heart of a 16 yr old boy. Pushed that one into the junk pile out back of hard lessons learned. Always bring a flashlight!
My best friends older brother heard of my misfortune and, probably thinking back on his childhood junk pile, took pity on me. He told me
"I've got an old honda in the cow barn you can have for nothin', should still be good, it ran when I parked it"
Yep, here we go again!
After a few hours of clearing "Stuff" out of the way, remember...cow barn, I got that baby out into the day light. A shiney "cough...cough" 197? Honda 110T. Man, I was grinning from ear to ear. Finally something I can work with, and work with it I did. LOL! Threw the rusted chain in a bucket of oil to free it up, pulled and cleaned the carbs, new plugs and battery. Thankfully the key was in the ignition so I popped the cap and tossed in some gas "why the hell does my foot feel cold and wet" I thought as I'm blissfully filling the tank thinking of future adventures?
Well, STUPID, maybe that half doller sized hole in the bottom corner of the tank has something to do with it? At some point in time a mouse had moved in and called my tank home. I distinctly remember looking at about six inches of chewed up rag hanging out of that hole like an inverted Molitov cocktail and being VERY tempted. In hind sight I'm glad common sense won out 'cause I forgot all about my gas soaked leg, musta been the fumes.
Well. Now what?
Enter my best friend. Two dogs make a pack, and here comes trouble.
"Why don't we take the tank off the 350 and strap it on this one?" Bungee turned out to be the fastener of choice, and a choice that will never be repeated by me again!
We got the new tank mounted and the appropiate plumbing re-routed. The time had come. Will it run? " OK" I told my friend Doug," turn the key and push the magic button"
Doug: "where's the key?"
Me: "in the ignition"
Doug: "uhh, no it's not"
Me: "quit #$%*&@# with me and start the @#$ damn bike!"
Doug: "dude i'm not #$%*&@# with you, where's the key?"
At this exact moment light dawns on marble head.
The key is still in the tank. Where is the tank you ask? take a guess... Yep, in the junk pile of lifes hard lessons. But this junk pile was probably half way to Canada for recycling. We had taken the scrap steel in a few days before, tank included!
This was more than an impatient 16 yr old could swallow, almost two whole weeks now and it still didn't run! Enter favorite obsenities here and repeat three or four times
Doug and I spent the remainder of that day out in a 100 acres of woods with a bag of beer and my Jeep. Poor Jeep.
It took me a few days to get back to the 110 but I was prepared this time. Doug had helped me bring the 350 over to his brothers so parts would be readily available, like the ignition switch There we go thinking again.
With the switch firmly taped to the steering head tube we're ready to try it. Now,you probably thought a while back why didn't you just hot wire it? Well, in my defense "it musta been the fumes"
Anyway,it only took us a few minutes of tinkering to get it running as smooth as a kettle of pop-corn popping. After a few more minutes of tinkering to get it to idle, I was ready for my first ride. I hopped on, pulled in the clutch, dropped her into gear and nailed it
zzzZZZIIINNNG....nothing. Yep, sure looking cool right now. Meanwhile in the shed there's a bucket full of oil. And a chain.
With chain firmly in place I fire her up, drop her into gear and EASE out the clutch,learning alot of lessons here, and head out the logging roads to the back 40.
The sense of pride and accomplishment I felt that first ride is impossible for me to put into words but I was the King of the world. For about 20 minutes anyway, but thats another story.
If anyone is interested I'll write up part 2
Thanks for letting me relive the past and for sharing your memories.
Junior, AKA Dave
I owe, I owe, Part Du. Stupid long
Posted By: Junior <email@example.com>
So, there I was King of the world, taking my
first bike out on its maiden voyage. I remember my very first thought as I
headed out on that old tote road "this sure beats the h#ll outta pedaling!" I
couldn't believe that all this power was at my finger tips, much like the first
ride on my Valkyrie, you all know that stupid s#!t eating grin
At this time I figured if I was going to beat Tommy I'd have to hammer down, don't hold back, and go for broke. How I made it down that hill and through those ruts at the speed I was traveling I don't have a clue. At times there was nothing but my two hands on the bike, maybe Murphy figured he had some credit built up and let this one slide. When I reached the bottom of the hill I could hear Tommy coming up on me, a quick look over the shoulder confirmed it. That bugger was already half way down the hill and gaining!!! Alright, all I had to do was get through the whoop de doo's and reach pavement before Tommy and I might stand a better chance with the street tires. At the time I didn't know that to get through whoop de doo's at speed you needed rythym. Well...this white boy had no rythym, zero, ziltch, nada. About half way through I started losing it,yaw left,yaw right, pitch up, slam down. On one of the slam downs the rear tire blew out which really sent me for a ride,mother!. Needless to say I lost it big time. There was a very large pile of dirt off to the left of the road that appeared to be my future landing pad whether I liked it or not.
SPLAT? I thought? Oh this can't be good. THUD or UNGHFF or many other sounds would have seemed more appropriate but SPLAT!?!
It was an incredibly hard impact but not enough to knock the wind out of me so the system check went fast. Hearing? the bikes still running, check. Feeling? can move right arm and leg, close enough, check. Sight? nope, nothing, uh oh!
That's when Tommy showed up and pulled the bike off me and I was able to lift my head and there in front of me was a perfect imprint of my face with my glasses in the imprint. My little surreal moment was broken by Tommy's uncontained laughter, and I mean uncontained laughter. Obviously I didn't share in Tommy's laughter 'cause to me it wasn't that funny. So I asked him what was so damn funny. "There's a hundred acres of woods out here and you pick the only pile of s#!t on it to land in"
Turns out he was right, a dump truck load of pig manure in the middle of a hundred acres and I nailed that pile dead center. Right up to my ears. OK maybe it's a little funny.
The bike had taken a beating on this one. Flat tire, bent bars, warped rim and a tank bungee MIA. After tying a couple of ignition wires back together that dangerous widow making SOB fired up and ran. "Maybe I should get a helmet...NAHHH!
Well Tommy won the race and I got to continue living. Jeez these things are dangerous!
Back at the house we retold our storys over some beer and had some laughs. Then one of the woman folk says she can smell gas real bad. I figured the fuel cross over tube under the tank had come loose and told her not to worry, I'll fix it. Sure enough thats what it was. When the crash happened the tank had moved and ripped the rubber line. I found another piece of line and was halfway through replacing it when Doug notices my ignition wires were loose. "hey your ignition wires are loo..'SPARK' WHHOOOMMP!!!
I was lucky enough to jump back before the fuel on my arms caught, but the bike was engulfed. Not only that it was in the middle of the driveway between two cars. Is everyone sober now?Good!!
Everthing that happened next is kind of a blur but I remember someone hollering "keys, get the keys move my car!" Off goes Mike into the house looking for keys. He never found the keys they were in thier respective ignitions the whole time. The next shout was for an extinguisher, off goes Doug looking for an extinguisher. "Move the bike" was the next thing I heard. I looked at my gas soaked arms and replied...well you can guess what I said. The next thing to happen was the remaining bungee on the tank hit critical burn and exploded, literaly. One piece of flaming bungee landed right next to the house and stayed lit. Next, and nobody can figure this one out, Tommy runs over to the bike and kicks it over. When the bike hits the ground the cap on the tank pops open and fuel starts pouring out and down the driveway. Lit of course!
At this time Doug comes out of the barn with an extinguisher and heads for the burning bungee by the house. I look at the bike, look at the flaming driveway and decide to grab the bike and drag it away from everything. I got the bike about ten feet down the driveway and looked up to make sure it was clear of the cars when Doug lets loose with the extinguisher. Dry chemical extinguisher, straight in the face. Now if you've never been on the receiving end of a dry chemical extinguisher let me tell you this stuff robs/displaces oxygen, fast! I was going to kill Doug if I could ever breath again. As it turns out I had forgotten all about the gas on my arms and Doug had left the house fire to stop the David fire.
Once the smoke had cleared we surveyed the damage, the bike wasn't going to start this time and good ridance!
We spent the rest of the day putting untold amounts of various rounds into that beast before it could hurt anyone else. After all these things are dangerous!
It was six years before I even looked at another motorcycle!
Ok time for another one.
Posted By: Spiderman <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 2/23/2004 at 21:59:42
I liked Juniors story.. and now he's got me going again. This is another chronicle of youthful insanity, fueled by beer and testosterone. Hey, I'm not that way anymore... but I don't regret that I once was. On the other hand I won't tell my son these stories for quite some time yet.
For those who read the other tales of mine, this one involves the good old KZ1000 again. All of this happens in one fun weekend in 1979.. you guessed it, up at the camp in Warren.
We often packed tents and sleeping bags and headed up Kancamagus way on weekends. On Rt 118 between Lincoln and Warren ( which is one HELL of a riding road, by the way), there used to be a spot called Hancock Overlook. Right at the top of the mountain, a cut out / parking area afforded a wonderful view of the valley below. It's gone now, overgrown and closed, you can't even tell it was once there. We got in the habit of hanging out there, and it was a great spot to camp. Often there would be 20-30 people, girlfriends, bikes, cars, the works. The rangers always left us alone, as long as we got ourselves a fire permit we had no problems, and we always cleaned up the mess.
My buddy Bill had a hot little 65 Mustang up there that weekend. Nicely tricked out car, very sweet indeed. Me and my girlfriend were on the bike. We were raising all sorts of hell. All you could hear all weekend was Kerker exhaust systems going up and down the mountain to Lincoln for more beer. In the mountains, the sound of a loud bike can echo in the valleys and carry forever, and you could hear guys coming up the hills long before they arrived. I was in my tent, but a few guys were just crashing in the cars. This camping spot was in the side of a steep hill, above the road. Bill's car was parked facing the road, with the very steep hill in front of it. In fact it was almost straight down. Ahhh, you say, I know where this is going... and you would be correct! Well, a couple guys crashed in Bills Mustang, and one of them rolled over in his sleep and knocked the car into neutral. Over the cliff goes the 'stang. I awoke to the calm, orderly, reasonable discussion that followed. I stumbled out of the tent, took note of the car, and proclaimed "Holy Shyt!". It's about 4 AM, and the car is perched on a boulder, with the nose pointing right at the road, which was only 10 feet away. Bill was not a happy camper. Given the fact that no one was hurt, it's dark as hell, we're drunk, and the car isn't going anywhere, we decide to wait until dawn and figure out what to do next. Back to sleep I go. I awoke later, and me and the GF decided to greet the day "properly". At this moment, another guy needs me to move my bike for some reason, so he improvises a wake up call, noted step by step:
1. Quietly remove exhaust baffle from Z1 with Kerker header on it.
2. Even more quietly, back motorcycle to within 6 inches of tent door.
3. Set choke.
4. Twist throttle WFO.
5. Press start button.
It was a remarkably effective method. It kind of ruined the moment if you get my drift. After my ears stopped ringing and the GF stopped screaming at the perpetrator, I managed to see the humor. Geez those guys were in hysterics. Hell it was only 6 AM and it was already a crazy day.
Someone goes to town, returns with a wrecker, and the car is out. The undercarriage is beat to hell, the exhaust is ripped out, but it runs. Bill is pretty bummed out... packs up the Mustang and heads over to Warren to his parents camp, intending to make repairs. We remain behind and spend the day partying. That next evening we hear there is bad weather coming in. The GF decides she's had enough, doesn't want to get soaked. Another couple had to head home to work, so after supper she caught a ride with them, and that left me with the crew. After a few hours I thought about Bill over there in Warren with a roof over his head, and said "screw this, I'm outta here". Packed up the Z1 and headed down 118 to Warren. Now, Warren is a small small town, and possibly the only town I know whose common is festooned with an Atlas Missile.. you know, the kind they used to launch nukes. Strange.... but I digress.
It's midnight, and I came steaming into Warren center doing oh.. about 30 over the speed limit.
I intended to turn at the stop sign and head up the mountain to the cabin.. the same mountain in the "riding in the snow" story.
As I flashed past the rocket, I noticed a car with parking lights on next to a building. "Oh S**T" says I. Sure enough this local officer pulls out and here he comes just as I get to the stop sign. Once again, my clear thinking came to the rescue... "Screw this, I'm outta here".
Up Route 25C I go, banging gears, the engine screaming. It's about a 2 mile straightaway before you go up into the hills, and I knew there was no catching me. There wasn't. I had a mile between me and the cruiser when I got to the hill, and just kept going. Got to the camp, walked in and crashed on the couch, woke up the next day to Bills mom laughing at me sleeping in my leather jacket.
There were 3 other guys on bikes there, and the next day we rode into Warren in the rain to get beer, and there is this cruiser parked near the rocket, with the officer glaring at us. I am sure he was thinking, "which one of you bastards was it". God, did we laugh.
With all due respect to the officer, and the passage of time, I was wrong to do that. No, not wrong, stupid and wrong. But at the time, I was a lunatic. What can I say. I'd never dream of doing it now. But I still laugh about it.
Ok, now that I've bared my soul, I'll take some time to muster the courage for the next socially unacceptable tale of a deranged youth
time for another story I guess
Posted By: Spiderman <email@example.com>
Date: 7/22/2004 at 21:10:56
Well here's another
In 1981 I was riding yet another new Kawasaki, a KZ1100 shaft drive. What a
wonderful bike, and by the way I still have it, although it's not running
presently. I believe the expression is 'sucked a valve", which then projected itself through a newly formed hole in the cyliner head....some winter night I am going to "do it up", seeing as how I scored a new head for it recently.
It's been sitting on the battery tender in the garage for a couple years now.
But, I digress.
Hope you don't find this boring or tedious.
Anyway, I picked this bike up in spring 1981, and planned a trip to Nova
Scotia with my best friend Doug, his wife Michelle ( He on a Yammie 850 triple, she on a Yammie 400 twin), and my brother Phil, who was fresh out of the Marine Corps and had picked up a new Seca 750.
Much planning commenced and we planned a route that took us to Bar Harbor, and then to Nova Scotia via the ferry. I also took some odd notes here and there, mostly to match up with pictures I took, and had my pics and my old maps from the trip that helped me recall all the details.
Day 1: Left Burlington MA about 7 AM headed for Bar Harbor. Pretty uneventful cruise, very hot. Stopped on the Maine Turnpike for lunch and a
cool drink. After a good 5 hours or so of riding, got off the highway and took what seemed like an endless two lane highway to Bar Harbor. Lot's of traffic and slow going, relatively speaking. When you've been riding a while and it's hot as hell, anything less then being there is slow going. Got to the ferry terminal and picked up our tickets for the next morning. The ferry then was the Bluenose, and it only made one round trip a day as I recall. Maybe 2, but I don't think so. Checked into the renchmans Bay motel right across the street. After cooling off a bit, rode up Cadillac Mountain and enjoyed the view. Lobster dinner follows. Mmmm.
Day 2: Up at 5 AM and out of the hotel and in line to board the ferry by 6. Bikes to the front of the line, very excellent.
This also allows us to be in the restaurant on board eating breakfast before the rush. The ferry crew provides tie downs hanging from the ceiling, it seems a little strange, but it works ok. They really pack the vehicles in tight. Once we're done there's no going back to the bikes until Yarmouth. During the trip I go down the stairs to the car deck, thinking I could peek over towards the bikes and make sure all is well. It's really weird, as the boat rocks back and forth all the cars are bouncing in unison on their suspension, up and down. Strange sight. I head into the slot casino, and pop a bucks worth of quarters into the first machine I come to. Imagine winning 500 bucks on the first pull. That's what happened. I was pretty stoked. And, I took the money and got the hell out of there. My vacation was paid for now. Had a good time sitting on deck, drinking Canadian beers and watching dolphins chase the boat. Every now and then one would leap out of the water. Wasted a ton of film trying to catch one in the air. I didn't succeed. Got into Yarmouth about 2PM. Lose an hour to Atlantic Time zone. We head up the east coast, destination Shelburne. Only a few hours leasurely riding and we find the provincial campground we wanted. It was a pretty cool place.
Checked in, and went downtown. Decided on more lobster for dinner again, and went to the docks around 5, where we scored some really good ones, very cheap right off the boats. A guy we met in the campground turned us on to this "Keith's Ale". This stuff was awesome.
We had to hunt around for a govenment liquor store... which we did just about every day of the trip it seems. Get a case of Keith's and divide it up to carry it back on the bikes. An awesome lobster feast follows.
Day 3. We head up Trans Canada Highway, north towards Cape Breton. After about 20 miles we stop for breakfast and quickly get on the road again. After only a couple minutes, a semi in
front of us blows a tire and a huge chunk of rubber flies at us, and Doug catches it on his leg. He swerved to the side and stopped, got off
and fell on the ground in pain.
Talk about bumming out.... he bruises up pretty good, but after a short rest and a handful of Tylenol we are off and glad things were not worse. This was a long day of riding, as we want to make time and get to Cheticamp, which is on the west coast of Cape Breton. It was settled by the French Acadians in the 1800's and is
still a very French oasis in what is largely a Scottish province.
We got there fine, and got in to the campground at Cheticamp, operated by the National Park Service. After setting up camp we do a quick grocery run and cook dinner. Oh yeah, and we found the government liquor store too, can't
forget that. I think the bike was trained to find booze.
Just get on and say "fetch"...... )
The campgrounds are outstanding. They are spotlessly clean and very pretty... not to mention sparsely populated. It seemed like we had the place to ourselves. They provide little cook sheds... a nice size cabin with wood
stoves and tables and chairs and firewood that you can use. Also not a bad place to hang in bad weather.
After dinner we head up the Cabot a ways, figuring we could find a nice spot to hang and watch the sunset. We were not dissapointed. Wow was all we could say.
It was stunning. The sun sets considerably later here, this is due to the northern latitude. Well past 9 before the sun goes down.
After dark we return to the camp, light a fire and drink beers. What a great day.
Ahhh.... today is the Best Ride of the Trip!. The Cabot Trail. I am afraid I just can't find words to describe it. You really need to see it to believe it. There are many places to stop and take pictures. At one stop, I am fiddling with my 35mm camera trying to get a shot of a river way below us in a gorge.
A tourist who did not speak English tapped me on the shoulder as I aimed the camera. He smiles and motions to his camera bag, and I give him a puzzled look.
He opens the bag and has about 10 different lenses in there.... oh I see! He offers me a really nice telescopic lens, so I install it on my camera, play with it a bit
and fire off a few frames. What a cool guy. I thank him and shake his hand.... no translation needed. And, the pics came out good too!
The twisties are fun and we just cruise most of the morning, not in any particular rush. We take a hike up a trail that provides a good view of the ocean.
A hint about the Cabot Trail... I have done it 3 times and find that doing it west to east is best. This way you are on the INSIDE lane... most of the way around there are numerous places where the mountains are on your right and the ocean and cliffsides are on the left. Best to be opposite that just in case you have a get-off or a breakdown. There ain't much room in that lane in many places. We get around the northern tip of the island, and now are heading south towards Ingonish. There is another campground near a place called Black Brook Park, we decide to stay there for the night, as there is a real nice park with a beach across the street. This place was awesome, the beach was not sand, but was very rocky. The waves were huge, and when they crashed in, all these good sized rocks banged together, the sound was very odd. Imagine a thousand people with a rock in each hand banging them together. There was a freshwater river here that emptied into the ocean over a waterfall, it was beautiful. We set up camp, and went shopping for food ( and Keith's ale)... "fetch boy, fetch" )
We cooked dinner right there on the beach in the fireplaces provided, and stayed till very late. The ranger came down and told us the park closed at 11 PM.. we had a huge fire going. But then he said, you ain't causing no trouble, so have a good night. What a guy.
The next morning we regretfully moved on.. it was the best night of the trip for sure. We were getting pressed for time, so we finished off the Cabot Trail, and rode back to Yarmouth after one last night camping.
Altogether a great trip... I've been back once since, just before I got married, and Donna and I did it in my 300Zx.
But that's a story for another day.......
My first NE VRCC ride. (long)
Posted By: Orca <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 2/20/2007 at 20:32:09
My first New England VRCC ride.
My fascination with the Honda Valkyrie started long before the bike hit the showroom floor. I had V90 Honda Magna that I bought new at Green River Power Sports in Gill, MA. I was reading magazines about the new Valkyrie and couldn't wait to see one in person. I went to the Honda dealer in Auburn, MA and asked when they would be getting one. I went there the same week it was delivered. WOW, I had to have one. I signed up to the VRCC just to hear about other riders and their bikes. I was a member for well over a year before I got my Valkyrie.
I looked on the NE board and read about this ride going to Marcus Dairy in CT. A bunch of riders were all meeting in Marlboro, MA, then head to CT. Well I got on my bike and headed out. Just before the meeting spot I figured to top off the tank so I'm ready for the trip. I'm on Rt. 20 filling my tank at a gas station by myself. I hear someone yell from the other side of Rt. 20, at another gas station, "Hey, buddy, are you going on the ride to Marcus Dairy?" I said "Yes" and they said for me to come over after you fill up and we'll ride to the meeting spot. Cool. I pull into the gas station were these four bikes were and noticed they all have Maine plates on the back of the bikes. I thought to myself, either Marcus Dairy has the best cheeseburgers in the nation, or these guys are just nuts. They all introduced themselves. Olaf, Laddyboy, JeffL & V-Man. So off we went. We get to the meeting spot and I park the bike. Not knowing anyone I start to wipe the bike down and clean my glasses. Within minutes there was fifteen or so Valkyries in the parking lot. I thought that was the coolest thing. You always see Harley's together or Goldwings... but these bike had something special about them, I didn't realize until later what that was. Just then, I guy all dressed up in his biker gear, he looks like Alice Cooper, comes over to me with a box of fresh pastries from a bakery and say's "Dig in"...... I'm thinking, I'm going to like this club !!!! We haven't rode one mile yet and we're already eating !!!! Valkrocket was his name. Then I meet Tangeman. I see him eat like six of these pastries, I think I'm going to like this group. These guys are crazy. They ride hundreds of miles for food. After some ball busting, we all gear up and headed out. The ride was a full day and everyone made me feel like I've been part of the group for years. I've never looked back.......... Since that first ride I've been to Zanesville, OH for InZane 1, Key West, Canada, & 21 states in 15 days.
Road trips that will be remembered for a life time.
It didn't take long before I realized what was so special about these bikes. It wasn't the bikes, it was the people who ride them. A member from the club once told me, that we don't have to see or talk to each other for months and he can call me just to tell me I'm a "Fat Bastid" , that's it.....and we all laugh..... but it's true
I hope to be back two wheels very soon and continue this journey........ <><
Back to reality
Date: 8/13/2007 at 08:04:26
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