With Fall quickly approaching, that could only mean two things. That I had a wedding to attend and it was time once again time for the Fall Color Run. With the wedding being on Saturday night, my Dad and I planned to leave on Sunday. Jeff, Tad, and Adam were leaving on Saturday. Jeff and I took a shot in the dark and made "plans" to meet at the beginning of the BRP on Tuesday morning. Short of that, the general idea was to head for the BRP and figure the rest out along the way.
Day 1 - October 7, 2001 (Sunday)
469 miles
Thankfully I managed to somewhat restrict the beer intake the night before so getting up at 7am wasn't a problem. After a quick shower, I hopped in my car and drove back to my house from my Dad's. With the temperature only reading 28 degree's, I was sure happy to be doing the first leg of the trip in my car. After a little last minute packing, I clicked the Givi's (yes, all 3 of them) onto my VFR and was ready to head out. My Dad showed up at my place a short time later, and with that we were off.
Having spent way too much time on the tri-state earlier this year, I decided to take the route through the city instead (aka. 290/94). To much surprise, we were not only rewarded with no traffic problems, but also a crystal clear view of the Chicago skyline. After what happened earlier this year, it made me appreciate the city skyline more than ever. Once onto the 94 and past the home of the White Sox, we were soon crossing into Indiana. With the tunes cranking in my helmet, I settled in and set our sites on West Lafayette. This has become somewhat of the traditional first stop for gas. Even thought he VFR could have gone another almost 50 miles, I decided it was a good chance for a break and something to eat.
With the temperatures still on the cool side, my Dad and I decided on some hot chocolate at Burger King. And with Tad being absent, I figured I better order a triple cheeseburger too (hey, it was only $1.99). Also, for the first time we talked briefly about where we were going, and decided on a more direct route into Ohio via Rt. 74 from Indianapolis. With both my gas tank and my stomach full, we saddled up and jumped back on the interstate. Most of the time I really don't care much for the slab day(s), but for some reason this day I was very content just sitting back. With the exception of one psycho cage driver, we made it to the rest area near the Ohio border without incident. At the rest area, I finally pulled out my first map and we decided on a possible destination for the night along the Ohio river.
Once back on the interstate, we found ourselves quickly crossing into Ohio, then into Kentucky, and finally back into Ohio. At first I thought we made a wrong turn, but upon closer inspection of my map, I realized that I-275 makes a pretty strange loop around Cincinnati. About the time my low fuel light started flashing, we exited onto Rt 52 which follows the Ohio river all the way to West Virginia. The only problem was I didn't see a gas station anywhere in sight. After a quick "how many more miles do I dare go" calculation, I led my Dad and I off the main road and remarkably found a BP gas station not 1/4 mile from our detour. When my Dad took off his helmet he said something along the lines of "how in the world did you find this place?" Umm, I dunno....
After filling up my rather empty tank and some Iced Tea for myself, we began our route along the river. It's always a relief to be done with the interstate, and this day was no exception. The ride along the river was very peaceful, and the traffic was for the most part very light. The miles were going on all to easy and soon so was the sun getting low in the horizon. After a failed attempt to find a hotel in Maysville, we decided to head to Portsmouth. Since we had just crossed into Kentucky, we followed the river now on the south side. Before long, the sun was gone and the temps started to drop. By the time we checked into our hotel, it was something like 37 degrees again. I had asked my Dad if he wanted to camp, and he said something along the lines of "no way, my bones need a bed to rest in."
Day 2 - October 8, 2001 (Monday)
379 miles
Yesterdays almost 500 miles set us up perfectly to take a casual pace across West Virginia today. The morning was again very brisk and I was thankful for my great riding gear (worth mentioning here). Besides my Aerostich suit, I also have a Chili heated vest, and a pair of Hotgrips. My feeling is that without these three pieces of gear, I could not have ridden in sub 40 degree temps.
We continued along Rt 52 until it dumped us onto the interstate around Hunginton, WV. With thoughts from the previous trip through WV earlier this year still in my head, I opted for a safe interstate route across western WV. This took us through Charleston (where thankfully the 3 different cops didn't have a problem with my 7-10mph over) and onto I79. Tad and I had taken this route on my first ever trip back in 1998, and I was reminded why. The more approriate name for this section of road is a roller coaster. The interstate winds up, down, and around several mountains, with a posted 70mph all the way. Taken at 75mph (ok, sometimes a little faster) you are almost tempted to lean off the bike around some of the "bends". I really enjoyed the road, not to mention the trees were really starting to show their colors in some areas.
Taking a quick glance at the map, I relized we needed to exit the interstate and start heading east. The most direct route was to take Rt 15 over to Rt 55, both of which are marked as scenic roads. After exiting the interstate, while passing through the town of Sutton, I followed the sign that said "all thru traffic must turn here". 5 minutes later I realized that was not a wise move. We were obviously not on Rt 15 anymore, and were heading to who knows where. I thought about it for a 1/4 of a second and decided to press on. After a few more miles, I recognized and pointed out the road my Dad and we had "come down off the mountain" from two years ago. With still no clue where we were, the road started to tighten up and I took the opportunity to wear the sides of a my tires a bit. Eventually the road we were on dead ended into Rt 19, and it was at that moment I knew exactly where we were, and more importantly, what was just up the road. It gave me goosebumps then, and it just did again while I write this.
It was three years ago (almost to the day) that Tad and I stopped at this little lake, location - the middle of nowhere, 1000 miles from home, West Virginia. The view isn't all that spectacular, but it is a place that I will always remember, for it was the first time when I started to understand what this was all about. In fact, there is still a picture of my old F3 sitting next to the Black Whale at this lake hanging on my wall at home. Needless to say, it was nice to say hello to and old friend again. I've been told I shouldn't go looking for things like this place, and I must admit it was more meaningfull just running across it this year.
After collecting my thoughts, we continued over to Rt 15 and eventually stopped in Webster Springs for some Subway. After lunch, I told my Dad to take the lead. Worst case I said, "I'll meet you in Elkins." The ride up 55 is quite scenic and I could tell that my Dad was really enjoying himself. I caught him pointing out the scenery on more than one occation. Once into Elkins I spotted the hotel Tad and I stayed at and remembered warming up the bikes on a cool, somewhat foggy morning some 3 years ago. I took the lead back and pulled into the gas station at the intersection of Rt 33.
After filling up the bikes we headed east on Rt 33 towards the Virgina border. Both my Dad and I had been on this section of road before and have very fond memories off it. The roads highlights are "Granny's" mountain, Seneca Rocks, Germany Valley, and a rather intense set of twisties as you cross into VA. This years ride across 33 was no disapointment. My Dad and I both stopped at "Granny's" mountain, then continued on to Germany outlook. The view was spectacular and I took some time to enjoy the moment before engaging for the rest of the ride into VA. I was rewarded with no traffic and clean pavement, so needless to say I had a blast. Once into VA, I slowed up to let my Dad catch up, then we made our way through Harrisberg to our hotel for the night.
Pictures:
My lake in WV
The fall colors in WV
Granny's mountiain in WV
Germany Valley, WV
Day 3 - October 9, 2001 (Tuesday)
310 miles
This morning we awoke to find frost on the bikes. I knew it was going to be a cool (ok, cold) mornings ride, so I pilled on all the layers that I had, including my red-barron scarf. Upon getting under way, I quickly realized my glove choice error, and had to pull over to change to my winter gloves. After that was done, with the hot grips on high, the vest LED solid, I did pretty good at sustaining warmth at 75mph and 31 degrees. I don't think I could have ridden all day in these temps, but for an hour this morning I was fine.
After a little seaching, I found a mom-and-pop resteraunt in downtown Waynesboro which we stopped at for breakfast. After my 1-1/2 breakfasts (even I can't resist "and one pancake" at times), my Dad and I headed for the begining of probably my favorite road in America - the Blue Ridge Parkway. After taking the traditional pretty maids in a row picture, we rode the 1/8 mile to the first rest stop and waited for Tad's group to show up. I had left Jeff a voicemail the night before saying we'd be at the rest stop around 9:00am. It was now 9:05am. (it's a Trank thing, you wouldn't understand).
While we waited, I began to mentally prepare for what the next two days would have in store for me. The BRP is one of those roads that means something different to everyone. For me, it's about sitting back, emptying my mind, and just letting it all go. Woaaa! It's Tad - and he's trying to do a wheelie, no wait, a stoppie. Cool. Personally, with nothing more than a "we'll probably be here on Tuesday" plan, I never thought we'd meet up with Tad, Jeff, and Adam. After our initial hellos, we headed back to the BRP sign and took a more impressive P.M.I.A.R. picture. It turned out that the guys had camped up in Shenandoah the night before, and hadn't had breakfast yet. No problem - we'll "see ya down the road somewhere."
As I was saying, the BRP is a great road. I almost immediatley started thinking to myself that I didn't want it to end! (the road is 470 miles long) I've you've never been on the BRP you probably can't understand that statement. I'm very happy to say that I can though! And that I've been given the opportunity to ride the BRP not once, but 5 times now. The begining section of the BRP is absolutley awsome. It's moderately twisty, and quicky climbs in elevation. Within 15 minutes, my mind was completely blank. Perfect!
I'm not 100% sure, but I think I rode the first 80 miles of the BRP without stopping. It was at least an hour, or was it two? At any rate, eventually I found my way to 'Peaks of Otter' and stopped for something to drink. I expected someone to pass by while I was there, but not one bike from our group was to be found. The next section of the BRP is what we refer to as the "old" section. The farm houses back up almost to the road, and the various gardens and vegitable fields are abundant. This section of the parkway tends to grow on you. The first few times, I didn't think to much of it. Now, it's one of my favorite sections. Life seems so simple here, the complete opposite to life in the big city.
Continuing through Roanoke, I made my way to one of the outlooks I always try to stop at. It's one of those outlooks that is somewhat off the parkway, and not too many people stop at. It is complete with a perfectly slopped hill for sitting on, and a nice view of the valley below. Some time passed while I was enjoying the view, when all of a sudden Tad pulled in. He said something along the lines of "get out of my outlook." Sorry dude, this ones mine! After we each snapped a few pictures, Tad asked me if I wanted to ride together for a while. Sure thing dude, anytime.
Tad said he was going to stop at Marby Mill, so we split off at that point. I pulled off for gas a short time later at Meadows of the Dan. While stopped there enjoying a dried apple pie (which was pretty good actually), a gold wing ridder pulled up. He asked me something along the lines of, was that you that I was passing with back there. I said, "no, it must have been one of the other (not sure what word I said) riders I was out here with."
With about 60 miles to Doughton Park, our camping destination for the night, I settled back in the saddle and enjoyed the afternoons ride. Once I arrived at the campground, it took a few laps through before we all finally met up and decided on a site for the night. After camp was setup, we road to the Parkway resteraunt where I'm sure we all enjoyed both the hospitality and the food. After dinner we loaded up the bikes with firewood, road back to camp, then sat around our very well "stoked" fire before eventually turning in for the night.
Pictures:
Pretty maids in a row
The BRP colors and a perfect blue sky
More BRP
Day 4 - October 10, 2001 (Wednesday)
342 miles
One of the best things about camping on the BRP is there are no towns, no traffic, and no stoplights to deal with the next morning. After securing camp, we decided to stop at the Doughton Park resteraunt again for breakfast in order to maximize our time on arguably one of the best roads in the country. After breakfast, one by one we all took off down the road. Having waited over 2 months to finish my report, the details from the mornings ride escape me. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it's just nothing stands out as out of the ordinary between Doughton Park and Linville Falls. Once at Linville Falls, the scenery drastically took a turn in the "oh my god, this is amazing" direction. I had to stop at one of those "no stopping here" places to finally get a decent shot of the famous bridge. (seen to the right). Unfortunatley, the amazing fall colors had also brought more cars than I wanted to deal with. At one point I came around a bend only to find a line of about 25 cars stuck behind a, you guessed it, camper. (no doubt from FL) Rather than switch into pass-o-mattic mode, I opted for a safer alternative and pulled over to enjoy the view for a while.
Once the traffic somewhat cleared, I saddled back up and began the next leg of the BRP heading towards Asheville. Because of something that happened on my first trip with Tad, I can't say the word Asheville and not mention the word gas at the same time. This year, not unlike years past, I started doing calculations to determine if I could make it "about 100 miles" to Asheville. For reasons I cannot begin to understand, my calculations had me about 10 miles short of NOT making it. (go figure!) Having already passed the Little Switzerland exit, I chose the next largest town of Marion and exited the BRP at Rt 80. Little did I know this road would be a mini-deals gap, dropping some almost 3000 ft in a few short miles, winding it's way down the mountain. The only problem was, I was riding like crap. My bike just didn't feel right, and I wasn't able to get in the groove at all. Looking back, I'm pretty sure my biggest problem was too much weight. One should not bring all THREE givi's to this part of the country. At any rate, eventually I made it the 10 miles into Marion were I was happy to turn off my low fuel light, which had been blinking for some time now.
The ride back up the mountain to the BRP was much better. I was no longer worring about running out of gas, and also I am more comfortable with uphill twisties than downhill. Once safely back on the BRP, I continued to Asheville and stopped again for a quick lunch break. After lunch, the weather took a slight turn for worse. It really didn't bother me though, as I was just enjoying the ride. From Asheville to the southern end of the BRP the road starts to tighten up. I picked up the pace a bit, but still was never able to really get comfortable with my bike. We had plans to meet at Big Witch outlook, and all too quickly I found myself approaching the end of the BRP. It always amazes me how fast 480 miles go by when I'm on the parkway. This year was no exception. What can I say, I love this road! After collecting all the bikes, Tad took the lead and we made our way thru Cherokee, to the Tuskegee motel.
As we approached Tuskegee, I started thinking about Deal's Gap. There is something about the Gap that to this day still scares me every time I visit it. And given the extra weight I'd been carrying this trip, and my lack of confidence because of it, I was more apprehensive about riding the Gap this year than I ever had been. Before long we arrived at Tuskegee and checked into to the motel. Earlier in the day we had talked about riding the Gap today, then again in the morning. It was only an hour or so before sunset, so Jeff, Tad, Adam, and I unloaded our luggage and began the run up 28 to the Gap. Almost immediatley I noticed how much better my bike felt without the THREE givi bags installed. (mental note to self: pack lighter next time) I don't think I ever got my knee down on 28 (unlike last year), but by the time we got to T.W.O., my confidence was way up, and my gas tank was way low. After a splash-n-go, Otter took the lead, followed by Tad, then me, and taking up the rear was Adam. The Gap isn't super tight to begin with, but it lets you know right away who's in charge. Thankfully, I wasn't over analyzing the corners, and was able to find a groove fairly quickly. About that time, I glanced in my mirror - Adam was gone. This was Adam's first run thru the Gap, so that was expected. As for Tad and Jeff, they were 5-6 bike lengths in front of me. Anyone that's riden with me knows I don't like to be followed, nor do I follow others very closely (unless there is a pass involved). Jeff was clipping along at a pretty agressive pace - no, not a "5", but not a "4" either. I watched Jeff and Tad in every corner set themselves up, lean into it, drag a peg (not every corner, but Tad - OMG), and then set their sights on the next. I was keeping pace with them, but right before I leaned into the corner, I took an extra 1/4 of a second to tap the brakes, as a way of checking my speed before the entrance to each corner. I was able to make that speed up each coner with a little twist of the throttle applied just past the apex. I guess that's how I would describe my "fast" street pace. A little brakes up front, then extra power on the way out to average out the time through each coner. Of course, that's not the fastest way around a TRACK - but this isn't a track we're talking about.
If you haven't figured it out by now, there is a crash about to happen. No, it wasn't me, but rather our wingman Jeff. I'm not going to get into the details, but pretty much it can be described as a low side, caused in part by a ground clearanace problem. From what Tad said, Jeff's peg was hard on the ground before the apex, and when the corner decided to tighten up more, there wasn't room to lean any more. Thankfully, Jeff was ok. His bike did suffer some moderate damage, including a warped rear rim, but after a little roadside repair, we were able to all ride back to the motel. (in the pitch black btw) As you can imagine, much of the night was spent analyzing what happened, what went wrong, and how we were going to get Jeff's bike home.
Pictures:
Approaching Linville Falls
An overcast BRP
The bikes at Big Witch
Big Witch Overlook
Day 5 - October 11, 2001 (Thursday)
485 miles
My Dad and I as usual were up early. But much to our (my) suprise, Jeff was already up inspecting his bike now that he could actually see it. Tad and Adam were up soon after, and once we all had coffee in hand, the ideas started flowing. My Dad, with all of his emergency supplies, was able to come up with some rope and duct-tape for the cause. Tad called TWO and went in search of a new brake lever while the rest of us pieced together Jeff's bike the best we could. By the time we got everything back together, it was already approaching noon. Tad wasn't back yet, but basically Jeff's bike was road worthy, so my Dad and I started packing up. Jeff's plan was to take the shortest route to the interstate and home.
About the time we were ready to go, Tad showed up with a workable brake lever. At this point, my Dad and I said our goodbyes, and headed for the Cherohala. I couldn't see missing this road given our close proximity. Jeff seemed ok with us splitting up, so we did.
The Cherohala, as is always the case, was a great ride. The weather up top was cloudy I guess you'd say (we were actually riding through the clouds for a while). But otherwise, it was filled with gorgeous overlooks, clean pavment, and hardley a car in sight. I stopped several times and was really into the whole idea of being on the road this early afternoon. We took our time crossing the Cherohala, and even visited Bald River Falls before ending up in Tellico Plains. Bald River Falls was an amazing view in the fall with all of the trees changing colors.
At this point, I suggested we take an alternate route back to the interstate along Rt. 39, which turned into Rt. 30. This road was a lot of fun, let me say that. The section between Dayton and Spencer especailly. I wanted to keep going on Rt. 30, but looking at the clock and realizing it was already like 2 or 3pm, we needed to start making some time. I always enjoy stopping in Carbondale on the way home from trips, and my Dad is even hooked on the Enchilladas at Tres, so we set that as our goal for the day. We hopped on the interstate at Cookville. It was about 3pm, and we had a lot of miles to cover before making it to Carbondale.
Leaving out the details, it got really dark, and really wet before we finally made it to the motel. Common sense would have told us to pull over when it started raining (which translates to limited visibility at night), but neither of us made the move to exit, so we pressed on. Looking back, when you have to pass a semi, and only use the mist coming off his truck as a gage to were the road is, it's time to stop. Again, thankfully my Dad and I made it to Carbondale, sometime around 8pm. My stich was water logged, but considering the amount of rain we drove thru, I was "almost" dry. Dry enough anyway...
After checking in, and taking a quick shower, we had to go to Tres. After all, that's all that got both my Dad and I to Carbdondale was the thought of some good Mexican food. And was it ever good. The beers tasted pretty good too! :)
Pictures:
The Cherohala in the clouds
A fanstastic view from the Cherohala
My traditional road shot from the Cherohala
Bald River Falls
Bald River Falls - from the top
Day 5 - October 12, 2001 (Friday)
360 miles
Another good thing about stoping in Carbondale on the last night is that it sets you up for an "easy" 5 hour interstate ride home the next day. We were up early, and since it was Friday, my Dad and I finally were able to go to Mary Lous for breakfast, which was awsome as usual. After breakfast, my Dad packed up and headed for home. I decided to stay in town for a few more hours, which gave me time to run through campus, and even out to Giant City park. I always enjoy spending some time here, as I have fond memories from my college days.
I hit the road around 10am or so, which put me home shortly after 3pm. That worked out perfect, as I missed most of the rush hour traffic around Chicago. I really dislike the ride all the way up 57, so I took the 47 to 55 back route instead. That is a much more relaxing ride home.
Pictures:
Giant City Park
Summary:
Where do I start. There is really only one thing that stands out on this trip for me. That is, I'm very thankful I have been given the opportunity to experience what I have on the bike. Touring around the country on 2 wheels is really a great thing in my life. This year wasn't the greatest for me, nor for our country. But if this year has taught me anything, it is that you have to enjoy life while you can. Spending a week on the road with my Dad and my friends is a great way to do that.
I have to give thanks here again to Tad, and indirectly Jeff, for showing me there is more to life than the inside of a cage travelling to and from work down the interstate. I often think about that when I am commuting to work. How the person who just cut you off doesn't even realize what he or she is missing. I kind of feel sorry for them. It's easy to get caught up in the rat race of work, but if you don't take time to enjoy life, before you know it, it will pass you by.
I look forward to another season of riding next year.
Links:
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