Spring has come in. Yay. Blessedly beautiful weather and temperatures for a couple days does wonders for my personal outlook on life.
Last week showed us winter was still trying to hang on with evenings near freezing. However, the temperatures warmed up and the rain cleared out to produce the iconic spring weekend.
Oilburner has been traveling for three weeks, and was happy to be away from work. He actually hatched a little plan to take the travel trailer out and go camping. I would hear nothing of it, since I wanted to go riding.
We had thought an overnight someplace might be the ticket. But talked ourselves out of it late Friday night. Instead, we decided to take a day ride on Saturday with a friend that we hadn't ridden with in a very long time. That just left us with the necessary evil of deciding where we wanted to ride to.
Cherohala Skyway between Robbinsville, NC and Tellico Plains, TN is always a big hit. However, there was a landslide on the parkway over the winter that had taken out a good portion of roadway. Repairs had been underway enough that one lane was open. But Cherohala Skyway in a day is an ambitious plan, and not necessary in my mind for a leisurely opening season ride. So I talked the guys into a scenic mountain ride to stretch the proverbial legs.
Oilburner and I have taken a few rides in the lowlands of Georgia, but it has been a very long time since we have done much in the twisties. It was a startling realization of how little we actually have ridden the last 6 months. The GS had its 6K service just prior to the trip to Maine last year. That put 4K miles onto the clock, and I haven't yet finished up the 2K to the next service. The R1200R bike has only seen a couple thousand miles as well, since it hasn't gone in for a service either. That really pointed out how little riding we have done.
Country road curves are one thing. Getting back into the serious twisties is quite another, when you have been away awhile. So I urge you all to do a little warm up and practice before just wiping the dust off the bikes and hopping into the thick of things.
I found I had one major hang up that is going to require some time and practice to get back over. I've never really enjoyed tight left-hand twisties. In the South that generally means beautiful views off into some valley...with only trees and rocks to obstruct any forward and downward movement. I can envision all too well my bike and I sliding off the road and tumbling down the hillside. (Right curves are much easier in my mind as I still have another "lane" on the other side of that yellow line in case the bike slips out.) I know, stupid thought process. But it is what it is.
I had been able to overcome that in the past and taken many a spirited ride through the mountains with various and sundry people trying to keep up. Not so today. Today I had reverted back to my "learning" days and had totally psyched myself out. There were even a couple curves that I just stood the bike up and "walked" my way around. (I.E. no leaning.)
We stopped to discuss my issues and thought about some back aches that I have. (I carry my work stress in my upper back and neck, and my left shoulder had been paining me.) We wondered if I was being "tender" on my shoulder and not really performing the necessary moves to lean to the left. I also figured that I was following our friend and his style was messing with my head. It's normally just me and Chris, and we take turns leading. That maybe our friends rhythm was messing me up since I wasn't looking through the curves at my exit/vanishing point. I found myself fixating on his rear tire, or just behind it.
After lunch, we hit tighter twisties that didn't thrill me. I had already warned them I was taking it easy and just riding within my comfort zone. I would catch up at the next turn. Oilburner worries though. So when someone caught me up from behind I agonized over letting the Jeep pass, knowing Oilburner would be beside himself if a vehicle were the next thing to come upon him, rather than me. Luckily I didn't have to worry too much as I was able to keep enough ahead of the Jeep that I didn't feel pressured. And Oilburner had stopped a couple curves down the road. He thought I was much further behind than I was, and he was worried. (AAAWWWW!)
Having the guys out of my sight did wonders for me. I wasn't having to watch Oilburner nail the corners (which I did yell at him for, knowing we both needed a little warm up before going whole hog into twisty mode), and I didn't have to watch our friend and his strange ways. (He rides a Harley VROD, what can I saw about that huge rear tire...) I was able to concentrate on technique and go my own speeds.
So all you out there that are dusting the bike off from its winter slumber, I urge you to take a little notice of fit and feel when climbing back on board. Think that a little parking lot practice might be in order, with a few road drills coming in handy prior to hitting the roads as if you have never been away. Muscle memory will account for a lot. But a little warm up is always necessary. :)
Happy Spring. Safe Travels. Hope to see you on the roads this year.
Showing posts with label Georgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Georgia. Show all posts
Monday, April 8, 2013
Monday, May 14, 2012
Does Anyone Else Have to Put Up With This?
I'm all for a clean bike, but this is taking it to extremes. Dismantling the bike, piece by piece, and washing it in the kitchen sink is not productive!
hehehe...ok...that isn't quite how the story goes...but it sounds good.
Funny the measures that Oilburner will go to to ride my bikes! This time around, he caught a big nasty screw in the rear tire.
The resulting situation looked like this:
Therefore the days ride looked like this:
Aahhhh...so nice to see the girls together. Luckily I was going to take the R1200R out today. Oilburner doesn't get to ride the R1200R. He is not responsible enough not to pop wheelies... It has been awhile since I have been able to ride the "R"...and it felt GREAT!! Such a smooth engine, so much power, aahhhh. Smiles all around.
But what I haven't told you is that this wasn't the first time. Back in March we had another day of perfect weather and hadn't been out for awhile. Again...Oilburner's bike looked like this:
Desperately waiting for a new pair of shoes. So the days ride looked Iike this:
The first time my girls were head to head. I'm so proud!!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Atlanta to Athens....again and again and again
It's that time of year again. The Multiple Sclerosis 150 from Atlanta to Athens, back to Atlanta.
The ride started Saturday in absolute downtown Atlanta, weaved through the various and sundry cities, mixed with narrow streets, road construction, bad drivers, and a full moon, to name a few obstacles. Within 15 miles the riders are farther into rural areas and aren't as harrowed, but that is a long 15 miles. I can barely survive it on the motorbike, I wouldn't want to attempt it on a bicycle. Then these riders headed out through the bucolic country side for another 65 or 85 miles to reach the little college town of Athens, GA.
If yesterday didn't do them in, they hit the start line and ride right back to downtown Atlanta the next day.
Needless to say, there are usually far fewer riders on Sunday than were present on Saturday. (And I don't blame them at all!)
The motorcycle marshals don't start downtown. We pick the riders up about 8 miles out. They get a police escort a portion of the way and don't need us getting in the way. But the police don't make any bones about when they stop the escort. We heard cyclists saying their absence was abrupt. Farther along they may not get an escort, but key intersections are manned by police or sheriff's that stop traffic for the larger groups of cyclists.
Our job as marshals isn't to stop traffic or escort the cyclists anywhere. We ride the route, faster than a cyclist, but generally slower than traffic, or posted speed limits, to keep an eye on the cyclists and help if they have any troubles. The most likely troubles are flat tires, broken spokes, derailed chains. We hope to never have to encounter a cyclist that hits something and is injured, or far worse, is hit by something and is injured. We have plans in place in the event that these are encountered, we just don't want to encounter them.
This years event was completely without events...with the cyclists.
Unfortunately, participation has dwindled each of the three years that Oilburner and I have been involved. (No, I don't believe there is a correlation there!) This event has only been in place for three years. So I can't say why participation is decreasing. I surmise it might be due to the location. I can't say that I would love to ride through downtown Atlanta, nor some of the outlying cities. Would participation increase if the start/end point was somewhere else?
I would have thought so, until I spoke with a rider Sunday morning that remarked on more cage drivers being more tolerant this year, thinking more drivers are becoming more aware of cyclists. Do events like these bring more awareness of cyclists (and possibly motorbikes)? Is it worthwhile to force the interaction, hoping nothing bad happens, to make ourselves (as bi-cyclists overall) more visible?
I'm just not sure of an answer to that.
I'm not going to say this is old hat for us. This was our fifth time volunteering as marshals for MS rides. We have progressively gained more experience overall, as well as increased our bag of tricks for what is needed or how to handle situations.
The big news is that this year we both received our HAM radio licenses (Amateur Radio). This was going to take our involvement to a new level. In past years communication had to occur through cell. Given where some of the routes took us cell coverage could be a bit sparse or command central could be busy with calls. Therefore, it could be difficult to contact the control dispatchers (Net Control) if we had a rider that needed to be picked up, or worse yet, had an emergency.
With our HAM radios we could just dial into the proper frequency and speak directly with Net Control. And even listen in to all of the chatter traffic. A few other marshals have their licenses, but all Support and Gear (SAG) vehicles have a driver and radio operator in the vehicle (two separate individuals). There is tight communication across the course of where the first riders are located along the route, to notify break points of when they should be ready. Or where the absolute last rider is on the course, since the Turtle van is right behind them. Or when another SAG is needed to pick up a rider that doesn't want to continue, needs a lift to the next break point that has a mechanic, all sorts of contingencies. Amateur Radio allows all of the people to be connected with each other to run as a tight unit and facilitate the event as a whole. You aren't going to get that if everyone is calling in to talk with operators on cell phones.
This year Oilburner and I get to be part of the "IN" crowd. We get to listen in, and participate when needed.
Right out of the gate the level of involvement was great! I took the first shift on the route when the first cyclists started to pass. As I was hitting every single stoplight I was able to call Net Control and have them inform my leads to spread the next marshal back farther than our original 10 min schedule. I wasnt going to get anywhere in 10 minutes, so the next marshal didn't need to get that close.
We were able to listen in when support vans were fending off loose dogs. In one instance, there was a request for a motorcycle marshal to sit with the dogs as the support van was needed to pick someone up on the course.
We learned when someone messed with the route signs. New signs were needed quickly. And oversight was needed when the second set of signs was removed.
I was able to inform Net Control the location of SAG #6, because it had just passed me. (The one support van that didn't have a radio operator on Sunday.) I was then dispatched to chase it down and tell it to phone into Net Control as it was desparately needed to pick up a cyclist. That was a fun one as I bent a few rules of the road to catch the van.
We were all on hand to listen to the Turtle van call in to report that it had stayed on the primary course, while the actual turtle cyclist had taken the Century route. (The Century refers to the 100 mile route.) We all got to hear the radio silence just before Net Control asked them to repeat. ;)
With so few attendees this year the riders were either bullet fast, finishing by 12:30, or turtle slow, coming across the finish line between 5 and 6. There wasn't much of an in between. It was the same thing on Sunday. There were large gaps between groups or riders, spreading thin, leaving us with very little job to perform. I was actually stopped by more non-involved cyclists, asking me what was going on, and sheriff's, asking me where everyone was, than I was by cyclists actually needing help!
We had been obsessing about the weather all week. I was hoping for intermittent rain showers since the temps were supposed to be in the 80's F. It would cool things of a little bit. And the weather patterns toyed with me as the predictions varied every day. Unfortunately the actual day of events say high 80's to low 90's with absolutely no rain. Of course, this had to be the hottest weekend that we have seen here this year. Murphy seems to be working overtime.
In all this was an extremely uneventful weekend. No accidents, no injuries, no flats. Many miles, many smiles, much sweat and some great people to ride with.
I took exactly four pictures the entire weekend. They were all the same shot and this was the best. ;)
The ride started Saturday in absolute downtown Atlanta, weaved through the various and sundry cities, mixed with narrow streets, road construction, bad drivers, and a full moon, to name a few obstacles. Within 15 miles the riders are farther into rural areas and aren't as harrowed, but that is a long 15 miles. I can barely survive it on the motorbike, I wouldn't want to attempt it on a bicycle. Then these riders headed out through the bucolic country side for another 65 or 85 miles to reach the little college town of Athens, GA.
If yesterday didn't do them in, they hit the start line and ride right back to downtown Atlanta the next day.
Needless to say, there are usually far fewer riders on Sunday than were present on Saturday. (And I don't blame them at all!)
The motorcycle marshals don't start downtown. We pick the riders up about 8 miles out. They get a police escort a portion of the way and don't need us getting in the way. But the police don't make any bones about when they stop the escort. We heard cyclists saying their absence was abrupt. Farther along they may not get an escort, but key intersections are manned by police or sheriff's that stop traffic for the larger groups of cyclists.
Our job as marshals isn't to stop traffic or escort the cyclists anywhere. We ride the route, faster than a cyclist, but generally slower than traffic, or posted speed limits, to keep an eye on the cyclists and help if they have any troubles. The most likely troubles are flat tires, broken spokes, derailed chains. We hope to never have to encounter a cyclist that hits something and is injured, or far worse, is hit by something and is injured. We have plans in place in the event that these are encountered, we just don't want to encounter them.
This years event was completely without events...with the cyclists.
Unfortunately, participation has dwindled each of the three years that Oilburner and I have been involved. (No, I don't believe there is a correlation there!) This event has only been in place for three years. So I can't say why participation is decreasing. I surmise it might be due to the location. I can't say that I would love to ride through downtown Atlanta, nor some of the outlying cities. Would participation increase if the start/end point was somewhere else?
I would have thought so, until I spoke with a rider Sunday morning that remarked on more cage drivers being more tolerant this year, thinking more drivers are becoming more aware of cyclists. Do events like these bring more awareness of cyclists (and possibly motorbikes)? Is it worthwhile to force the interaction, hoping nothing bad happens, to make ourselves (as bi-cyclists overall) more visible?
I'm just not sure of an answer to that.
I'm not going to say this is old hat for us. This was our fifth time volunteering as marshals for MS rides. We have progressively gained more experience overall, as well as increased our bag of tricks for what is needed or how to handle situations.
The big news is that this year we both received our HAM radio licenses (Amateur Radio). This was going to take our involvement to a new level. In past years communication had to occur through cell. Given where some of the routes took us cell coverage could be a bit sparse or command central could be busy with calls. Therefore, it could be difficult to contact the control dispatchers (Net Control) if we had a rider that needed to be picked up, or worse yet, had an emergency.
With our HAM radios we could just dial into the proper frequency and speak directly with Net Control. And even listen in to all of the chatter traffic. A few other marshals have their licenses, but all Support and Gear (SAG) vehicles have a driver and radio operator in the vehicle (two separate individuals). There is tight communication across the course of where the first riders are located along the route, to notify break points of when they should be ready. Or where the absolute last rider is on the course, since the Turtle van is right behind them. Or when another SAG is needed to pick up a rider that doesn't want to continue, needs a lift to the next break point that has a mechanic, all sorts of contingencies. Amateur Radio allows all of the people to be connected with each other to run as a tight unit and facilitate the event as a whole. You aren't going to get that if everyone is calling in to talk with operators on cell phones.
This year Oilburner and I get to be part of the "IN" crowd. We get to listen in, and participate when needed.
Right out of the gate the level of involvement was great! I took the first shift on the route when the first cyclists started to pass. As I was hitting every single stoplight I was able to call Net Control and have them inform my leads to spread the next marshal back farther than our original 10 min schedule. I wasnt going to get anywhere in 10 minutes, so the next marshal didn't need to get that close.
We were able to listen in when support vans were fending off loose dogs. In one instance, there was a request for a motorcycle marshal to sit with the dogs as the support van was needed to pick someone up on the course.
We learned when someone messed with the route signs. New signs were needed quickly. And oversight was needed when the second set of signs was removed.
I was able to inform Net Control the location of SAG #6, because it had just passed me. (The one support van that didn't have a radio operator on Sunday.) I was then dispatched to chase it down and tell it to phone into Net Control as it was desparately needed to pick up a cyclist. That was a fun one as I bent a few rules of the road to catch the van.
We were all on hand to listen to the Turtle van call in to report that it had stayed on the primary course, while the actual turtle cyclist had taken the Century route. (The Century refers to the 100 mile route.) We all got to hear the radio silence just before Net Control asked them to repeat. ;)
With so few attendees this year the riders were either bullet fast, finishing by 12:30, or turtle slow, coming across the finish line between 5 and 6. There wasn't much of an in between. It was the same thing on Sunday. There were large gaps between groups or riders, spreading thin, leaving us with very little job to perform. I was actually stopped by more non-involved cyclists, asking me what was going on, and sheriff's, asking me where everyone was, than I was by cyclists actually needing help!
We had been obsessing about the weather all week. I was hoping for intermittent rain showers since the temps were supposed to be in the 80's F. It would cool things of a little bit. And the weather patterns toyed with me as the predictions varied every day. Unfortunately the actual day of events say high 80's to low 90's with absolutely no rain. Of course, this had to be the hottest weekend that we have seen here this year. Murphy seems to be working overtime.
In all this was an extremely uneventful weekend. No accidents, no injuries, no flats. Many miles, many smiles, much sweat and some great people to ride with.
I took exactly four pictures the entire weekend. They were all the same shot and this was the best. ;)
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Cherohala
I had to stop and play the last sentence of the conversation over again. Three grown men, none of whom had children, were talking about sippy cups. Really?!?!
I believe that many men act like children, but the use of a sippy cup? Well...yeah. I guess I can see where it would be beneficial. But I am way off track.
The conversation was actually chiding Oilburner for not having a cup holder on the RT. After all,Ken had one on his. And the discussion at hand was the only way Oilburner would be able to drink while riding with a full fact helmet. Sippy cup came up, but I think they meant something with a flexible straw.
I didn't care. I knew Oilburner wasn't installing one. That is a Goldwing farkle. So I tuned back out of the conversation and thought forward to the ride that was coming up.
We hadn't ridden to Cherohala or the Dragon yet this year. With the fall colors coming, and winter not far behind, those roads were going to be busy soon. Therefore the first "autumn" like weekend of year saw us headed there.
Who knew the first autumn week would have us experiencing 37.4 F (3C) at 12:30 on the Skyway. But there it was in all its blinking glory on my temp gauge.
Where were the 67 F (20C) highs they had predicted?
Nothing to worry about here though. Starting out in my winter jacket and four layers of winter clothes showed me that would not be sustainable at freeway speeds. So I switched the layers to the Gerbings heated jacket directly at the breakfast/meetup location. Two guys had fairings, and one of them heated gear. The Harley dude, sans a windshield, had on a down jacket. We were all prepared.
There isn't much more to say about this day. It was all about the ride in the company of good friends that were well matched in riding styles. The twisties were smooth and easy. The side trips were agreed upon. The route was up for changes. We were all willing to take a lead.
You can see more images on Flickr. And you can watch the video that sums it all up.
Cherohala With Friends from Love Of A Motorbike on Vimeo.
I believe that many men act like children, but the use of a sippy cup? Well...yeah. I guess I can see where it would be beneficial. But I am way off track.
The conversation was actually chiding Oilburner for not having a cup holder on the RT. After all,Ken had one on his. And the discussion at hand was the only way Oilburner would be able to drink while riding with a full fact helmet. Sippy cup came up, but I think they meant something with a flexible straw.
I didn't care. I knew Oilburner wasn't installing one. That is a Goldwing farkle. So I tuned back out of the conversation and thought forward to the ride that was coming up.
We hadn't ridden to Cherohala or the Dragon yet this year. With the fall colors coming, and winter not far behind, those roads were going to be busy soon. Therefore the first "autumn" like weekend of year saw us headed there.
Who knew the first autumn week would have us experiencing 37.4 F (3C) at 12:30 on the Skyway. But there it was in all its blinking glory on my temp gauge.
Where were the 67 F (20C) highs they had predicted?
Nothing to worry about here though. Starting out in my winter jacket and four layers of winter clothes showed me that would not be sustainable at freeway speeds. So I switched the layers to the Gerbings heated jacket directly at the breakfast/meetup location. Two guys had fairings, and one of them heated gear. The Harley dude, sans a windshield, had on a down jacket. We were all prepared.
There isn't much more to say about this day. It was all about the ride in the company of good friends that were well matched in riding styles. The twisties were smooth and easy. The side trips were agreed upon. The route was up for changes. We were all willing to take a lead.
You can see more images on Flickr. And you can watch the video that sums it all up.
Cherohala With Friends from Love Of A Motorbike on Vimeo.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Western Corners - Part 2
The sun was bright, the roads were empty, the scenery was beautiful. I just navigated my way south and didn't think of much, just enjoyed the feel of the bike, listened to the engine, felt the nuances of the road. I made a u-turn in a small town to fulfill the hunger creeping in. Subway's fit the bill. And it was fortuitous that I stopped, allowing me to look at the map and realize the complex little turns/jogs that I would have otherwise missed.
Note: The GPS was on the bike, but was only set to navigate me to the hotels. Otherwise I only looked at it to confirm changes in highway's. I did bring a paper map along for grander overviews and high level directional planning. I really enjoyed not being driven by that GPS. :)
My last set of tires were "known." I knew how they felt. I knew what to expect in response. I knew their pressure really only fluctuated with barometric changes. I knew I could rely on them. These new tires and I still have to work on that trust relationship. They had only been installed for 12 hours prior to departure and already needed two pounds of air. Air pressure thoughts whirled around in my subconscious and swirled to the top when the bike started feeling a little squirrelly. I tend to read a lot about a vast array of experiences other people have on bikes so that I may learn a little from them. I have keenly read about flat tire experiences. Think about it. We are entrusting our lives to two donuts of rubber with contact patch on the ground about the size of our palms. While I would like to never experience a flat tire on the motorcycle first hand, I would like to know what the bike feels like when it does occur. Or at least what symptoms to watch out for.
A low front tire is going to feel different than a low rear tire. The front tire is the steering tire and will feel heavy or difficult to steer when the pressure is low. The rear is the driving tire and will give more of a fishtailing feel to the bike. Please recognize, this is info for leaks, fast or slow, but definite deflating over time. These are not necessarily indicative of feel or response for a blowout.
Reading and theory are all well and good, but I don't have a dirt-bike riding background where flats or running at lower pressures is more normal. Without that background I don't "understand" what a fishtailing rear wheel actually feels like. I pay attention when the bike begins to handle contrary to expectations, feeling a little "skippy" in the rear end. Hey, it is a small thing to pull over and check tire pressure. It will quickly confirm suspicions, allay fears and give you a short break/stretch. I pull into the next gas station, sidling up to the air pump just in case.
This gas station is the prominent item at the t-shaped intersection of this quaint cross road with the name of Melson on my map. I know that I will not be obsessing over the 6-inch drop of pavement to gravel transition a foot away. I know I find the location of this lake and RV "Resort" directly behind the gas station a little strange. I know that my tire pressure is spot on, without any problemns. (Yes, I took into consideration that the tires were warm and would be a little above "correct" pressure.) OK. Trust quotient a little higher. What I was feeling is either a characteristic of the tire (probably not) or a combination of the upcoming wind and aerodynamics of the ginormous top box (more likely).
I take a little time to let the hair out of the helmet and give Mr. Oilburner a call before Mr. Tell-tale (SPOT) gives my away. It's about 3pm and he is concerned about where I will stop for the evening. I figure another hour and a half on the road. He pushes for 30 minutes. He wants me to have a chance to relax and see some sights without getting worried about stopping for the evening. I give in and we select a Holiday Inn Express about 30 minutes away in Cedartown. Amenities include a pool and hot tub. Oh yeah!
I've had a couple experiences of Cedartown before and always thought the town was clean and lovely. My dealings have always been on the other side of the proverbial tracks apparently. Approaching from the west this time gave me an entirely new view of this "clean" little town. I received a few unwelcome glances and hoped for green lights. My misgivings did not improve as I rode down a decrepit historical Main Street onto the newer version of fast food, used car lots and automotive garages. And my hotel was only 0.6 miles away. Oh well. Roll with the punches. The ambiance goes uphill at the end of "main" street literally and figuratively. Uphill marks the move towards residential, and the hotel is right in that transition.
If you ever have the chance to stay in the Holiday Inn Express in Cedartown, DO IT! Beverly, the night shift supervisor is phenomenal! She was nice, bubbly, talkative and helpful. I am not a frequent customer of the chain but Mr. Oilburner stays there frequently on his business trips. So that qualified me for a free beer that I spied sitting in a bucket of ice behind the counter. Then she pulled out the goodie basket and gave me my choice of chips (Cheetos), then shoved an 8 oz water and Oreo's in a bag for me. I made it upstairs to my room with my cache of goodies and returned to start unloading the bike.
I asked Beverly about a "safe" parking spot since all of the front spots were taken. She directed me to park in the "drive thru" section of the entrance where two cars were currently parked. By the time I had returned downstairs (I love bag liners!!) one of the cars had been moved (it was her son's). This is service that I can get used to!
After everything was squared away I crashed in my room in front of the air conditioner. Despite the cool start it had turned into a hot day in the mid-80's (30C). I partook of my munchies but had failed to procure a bottle opener for the beer. I soon donned my bathing suit and hopped into the liquid nitrogen that passed for the pool. The pool was small, but large enough to swim short laps to warm up. Good workout for the free cookies the hotel was baking up.
After swimming I lounged around to drip dry and read my book. Every so often someone would happen by the broken hot tub an we would have an interesting conversation of the broomstick handle that was wedged in the bottom of it. Fun speculations as the reasoning behind it. Another "guest" (I believe he lived there) recommended a restaurant that he worked at just down the street, so I took a stroll down the hill.
Zorba's - Greek name and motif specializing in Americana and Italian cuisine.
The place was packed and the food was good. I opted for the broiled salmon that my waitress recommended.
Just after ordering, another hotel guest that I had been chatting with at the pool happened up to me. It seems that she had been told the restaurant was 2.5 miles away (4 km) instead of half a block. She related her driving exploits then invited me to join her and her husband at their table. OK. I'm not here to eat alone if I don't have to. :)
Judy and Bill are great people on their way home to Florida. They had been visiting their son and his family up north. Bill was a previous rider and was thinking of picking it back up. Judy has ridden pillion of old, but has plans to take her beginning class as soon as an injury heals. We swapped stories and shared pictures over a good meal. Judy even revealed her dream bike: the anniversary edition of the Harley Davidson Cross Bones. :)
Time to head back to the hotel and they offered me a ride back. I could hear Mr. Oilburner's gasp of disapproval, but I will remind you that I am naive and believe most people are good. I had a good vibe from them and accepted the offer. The horse sticker was on the passenger window when I turned to grab the seat belt. I had a good laugh at it and all she could say was that it had come with a handful of other stickers with an album she had purchased a while back.
Needless to say, they delivered me back to the hotel safe and sound. Judy and I hung around the lobby talking bikes and eventually said our good nights. Morning came quickly with thoughts of breakfast downstairs. Bill and I shared a table and discussed bikes some more while Judy looked at maps for the easiest and quickest route home that bypassed Atlanta and neared a Starbucks. I think Starbucks won: I learned later they actually did go towards Atlanta.
But back to me. Room empty, bike packed, me suited, helmeted and gloved up. When I finally remember to check tire pressure. OY!! Important lesson here: check tire pressure BEFORE you are in all of your gear! The rear tire was 2 lbs low again. Anal retentive me decides it has to be remedied and I have to tear one of the saddlebags apart to reach my little compressor. Lesson number two: don't use your compressor for the first time ONB the trip . It fought, I cursed, it didn't inflate, I did, it blurbbled away, I sweated. I finally threw my hands in disgust, considered kicking the compressor across the parking lot and calmly repacked all my belongings. Obstinate compressor included.
I'm finally loaded back up and oozing sweat through all four layers of clothing on this lovely 44F (6.7C) morning. Let's get moving and some of the airflow through my mesh jacket to cool me right off!
In spite of everything it is wonderful to be on the bike and moving. Following the signs for Hwy 100 has be on some pretty strange roads. They are small, narrow, scenic, deteriorating and I only need to watch out for dogs and potholes. I have a hang up about dogs. I've already been charged by 4 of them (not on this trip) and I always expect them around the next corner, no matter where I am.
My goal today is Bainbridge. I really wish I had made it a little farther down the road yesterday, but I really enjoyed stopping when I did. So no complaints. My goal may be Bainbridge, but my only objective today was the Kolomoki Indian Mounds State Park. I had to get there first and that meant a compromise. I was going to continue on Hwy 100 until I reach interstate, then jump on that for a ways to make some time.
On my way I ran across Ephesus. What a cool name! This place in no way resembles the Ancient Greek city of the same name. But is is a treat to see in rural farm community Georgia. I think I have my "E" city. The husband of the City Secretary comes out to see what strange things I am doing. He was friendly, but very difficult to understand. We exchanged a few stories of unemployment and the economy, then I was on my way.
Along my travels I had notions of what places "should look like" based upon the city name. As I am sure you know, we are rarely correct when we do that. Tallapoosa just sounded odd and I had low expectations. Turns out it has some fabulous Victorian style houses that could rival old historic cities in Georgia known for their Victorian representation. La Grange always stirs images of farms, large machinery, big red barns and crops blowing in breezes. In my reality, my La Grange is a DUMP!! In all fairness there are probably good parts of town, but I didn't encounter any.
It was in La Grange that I had the chance to meet Earl. He pulled up to the pump next to me and the gas station and proceeded to talk bikes. He inquired where I was coming from, where I was going to, how long I've been riding, how far was my longest ride, all of the sizing me up kind of questions. Though all asked nicely. Turns out in his younger and crazier days he did something extremely stupid on a bike that resulted in some broken fingers, ribs, foot, leg and back, the upper region. Doctors never expected him to walk again. And while it took him a couple of years of therapy he proved them wrong. Happily. Now he talks with riders when he can to find out where their head is at in their riding and share his sobering experiences. I passed the test and was blessed on my way. And gave me the ultimate compliment of being a "real rider" and not just someone puttering around town.
Almost to the interstate and I spy this old grocery store that I fly by. I have to make a u-y to catch my "W".
The interstate is fast but boring and begins to lull me to sleep. Since I know there isn't any food beyond Columbus I accept the offer of a Denny's right off the freeway and think of a nice crispy BLT. Wish come true.
...to be continued. I apologize for my delay but work is kicking my rear-end right now. Just not enough hours in the day. :) Hope you are out riding and enjoying spring!
Note: The GPS was on the bike, but was only set to navigate me to the hotels. Otherwise I only looked at it to confirm changes in highway's. I did bring a paper map along for grander overviews and high level directional planning. I really enjoyed not being driven by that GPS. :)
My last set of tires were "known." I knew how they felt. I knew what to expect in response. I knew their pressure really only fluctuated with barometric changes. I knew I could rely on them. These new tires and I still have to work on that trust relationship. They had only been installed for 12 hours prior to departure and already needed two pounds of air. Air pressure thoughts whirled around in my subconscious and swirled to the top when the bike started feeling a little squirrelly. I tend to read a lot about a vast array of experiences other people have on bikes so that I may learn a little from them. I have keenly read about flat tire experiences. Think about it. We are entrusting our lives to two donuts of rubber with contact patch on the ground about the size of our palms. While I would like to never experience a flat tire on the motorcycle first hand, I would like to know what the bike feels like when it does occur. Or at least what symptoms to watch out for.
A low front tire is going to feel different than a low rear tire. The front tire is the steering tire and will feel heavy or difficult to steer when the pressure is low. The rear is the driving tire and will give more of a fishtailing feel to the bike. Please recognize, this is info for leaks, fast or slow, but definite deflating over time. These are not necessarily indicative of feel or response for a blowout.
Reading and theory are all well and good, but I don't have a dirt-bike riding background where flats or running at lower pressures is more normal. Without that background I don't "understand" what a fishtailing rear wheel actually feels like. I pay attention when the bike begins to handle contrary to expectations, feeling a little "skippy" in the rear end. Hey, it is a small thing to pull over and check tire pressure. It will quickly confirm suspicions, allay fears and give you a short break/stretch. I pull into the next gas station, sidling up to the air pump just in case.
This gas station is the prominent item at the t-shaped intersection of this quaint cross road with the name of Melson on my map. I know that I will not be obsessing over the 6-inch drop of pavement to gravel transition a foot away. I know I find the location of this lake and RV "Resort" directly behind the gas station a little strange. I know that my tire pressure is spot on, without any problemns. (Yes, I took into consideration that the tires were warm and would be a little above "correct" pressure.) OK. Trust quotient a little higher. What I was feeling is either a characteristic of the tire (probably not) or a combination of the upcoming wind and aerodynamics of the ginormous top box (more likely).
I take a little time to let the hair out of the helmet and give Mr. Oilburner a call before Mr. Tell-tale (SPOT) gives my away. It's about 3pm and he is concerned about where I will stop for the evening. I figure another hour and a half on the road. He pushes for 30 minutes. He wants me to have a chance to relax and see some sights without getting worried about stopping for the evening. I give in and we select a Holiday Inn Express about 30 minutes away in Cedartown. Amenities include a pool and hot tub. Oh yeah!
I've had a couple experiences of Cedartown before and always thought the town was clean and lovely. My dealings have always been on the other side of the proverbial tracks apparently. Approaching from the west this time gave me an entirely new view of this "clean" little town. I received a few unwelcome glances and hoped for green lights. My misgivings did not improve as I rode down a decrepit historical Main Street onto the newer version of fast food, used car lots and automotive garages. And my hotel was only 0.6 miles away. Oh well. Roll with the punches. The ambiance goes uphill at the end of "main" street literally and figuratively. Uphill marks the move towards residential, and the hotel is right in that transition.
If you ever have the chance to stay in the Holiday Inn Express in Cedartown, DO IT! Beverly, the night shift supervisor is phenomenal! She was nice, bubbly, talkative and helpful. I am not a frequent customer of the chain but Mr. Oilburner stays there frequently on his business trips. So that qualified me for a free beer that I spied sitting in a bucket of ice behind the counter. Then she pulled out the goodie basket and gave me my choice of chips (Cheetos), then shoved an 8 oz water and Oreo's in a bag for me. I made it upstairs to my room with my cache of goodies and returned to start unloading the bike.
I asked Beverly about a "safe" parking spot since all of the front spots were taken. She directed me to park in the "drive thru" section of the entrance where two cars were currently parked. By the time I had returned downstairs (I love bag liners!!) one of the cars had been moved (it was her son's). This is service that I can get used to!
After everything was squared away I crashed in my room in front of the air conditioner. Despite the cool start it had turned into a hot day in the mid-80's (30C). I partook of my munchies but had failed to procure a bottle opener for the beer. I soon donned my bathing suit and hopped into the liquid nitrogen that passed for the pool. The pool was small, but large enough to swim short laps to warm up. Good workout for the free cookies the hotel was baking up.
After swimming I lounged around to drip dry and read my book. Every so often someone would happen by the broken hot tub an we would have an interesting conversation of the broomstick handle that was wedged in the bottom of it. Fun speculations as the reasoning behind it. Another "guest" (I believe he lived there) recommended a restaurant that he worked at just down the street, so I took a stroll down the hill.
Zorba's - Greek name and motif specializing in Americana and Italian cuisine.
The place was packed and the food was good. I opted for the broiled salmon that my waitress recommended.
Just after ordering, another hotel guest that I had been chatting with at the pool happened up to me. It seems that she had been told the restaurant was 2.5 miles away (4 km) instead of half a block. She related her driving exploits then invited me to join her and her husband at their table. OK. I'm not here to eat alone if I don't have to. :)
Judy and Bill are great people on their way home to Florida. They had been visiting their son and his family up north. Bill was a previous rider and was thinking of picking it back up. Judy has ridden pillion of old, but has plans to take her beginning class as soon as an injury heals. We swapped stories and shared pictures over a good meal. Judy even revealed her dream bike: the anniversary edition of the Harley Davidson Cross Bones. :)
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| Image from Web 2011 HD Cross Bones |
Needless to say, they delivered me back to the hotel safe and sound. Judy and I hung around the lobby talking bikes and eventually said our good nights. Morning came quickly with thoughts of breakfast downstairs. Bill and I shared a table and discussed bikes some more while Judy looked at maps for the easiest and quickest route home that bypassed Atlanta and neared a Starbucks. I think Starbucks won: I learned later they actually did go towards Atlanta.
But back to me. Room empty, bike packed, me suited, helmeted and gloved up. When I finally remember to check tire pressure. OY!! Important lesson here: check tire pressure BEFORE you are in all of your gear! The rear tire was 2 lbs low again. Anal retentive me decides it has to be remedied and I have to tear one of the saddlebags apart to reach my little compressor. Lesson number two: don't use your compressor for the first time ONB the trip . It fought, I cursed, it didn't inflate, I did, it blurbbled away, I sweated. I finally threw my hands in disgust, considered kicking the compressor across the parking lot and calmly repacked all my belongings. Obstinate compressor included.
I'm finally loaded back up and oozing sweat through all four layers of clothing on this lovely 44F (6.7C) morning. Let's get moving and some of the airflow through my mesh jacket to cool me right off!
In spite of everything it is wonderful to be on the bike and moving. Following the signs for Hwy 100 has be on some pretty strange roads. They are small, narrow, scenic, deteriorating and I only need to watch out for dogs and potholes. I have a hang up about dogs. I've already been charged by 4 of them (not on this trip) and I always expect them around the next corner, no matter where I am.
My goal today is Bainbridge. I really wish I had made it a little farther down the road yesterday, but I really enjoyed stopping when I did. So no complaints. My goal may be Bainbridge, but my only objective today was the Kolomoki Indian Mounds State Park. I had to get there first and that meant a compromise. I was going to continue on Hwy 100 until I reach interstate, then jump on that for a ways to make some time.
On my way I ran across Ephesus. What a cool name! This place in no way resembles the Ancient Greek city of the same name. But is is a treat to see in rural farm community Georgia. I think I have my "E" city. The husband of the City Secretary comes out to see what strange things I am doing. He was friendly, but very difficult to understand. We exchanged a few stories of unemployment and the economy, then I was on my way.
Along my travels I had notions of what places "should look like" based upon the city name. As I am sure you know, we are rarely correct when we do that. Tallapoosa just sounded odd and I had low expectations. Turns out it has some fabulous Victorian style houses that could rival old historic cities in Georgia known for their Victorian representation. La Grange always stirs images of farms, large machinery, big red barns and crops blowing in breezes. In my reality, my La Grange is a DUMP!! In all fairness there are probably good parts of town, but I didn't encounter any.
It was in La Grange that I had the chance to meet Earl. He pulled up to the pump next to me and the gas station and proceeded to talk bikes. He inquired where I was coming from, where I was going to, how long I've been riding, how far was my longest ride, all of the sizing me up kind of questions. Though all asked nicely. Turns out in his younger and crazier days he did something extremely stupid on a bike that resulted in some broken fingers, ribs, foot, leg and back, the upper region. Doctors never expected him to walk again. And while it took him a couple of years of therapy he proved them wrong. Happily. Now he talks with riders when he can to find out where their head is at in their riding and share his sobering experiences. I passed the test and was blessed on my way. And gave me the ultimate compliment of being a "real rider" and not just someone puttering around town.
Almost to the interstate and I spy this old grocery store that I fly by. I have to make a u-y to catch my "W".
The interstate is fast but boring and begins to lull me to sleep. Since I know there isn't any food beyond Columbus I accept the offer of a Denny's right off the freeway and think of a nice crispy BLT. Wish come true.
...to be continued. I apologize for my delay but work is kicking my rear-end right now. Just not enough hours in the day. :) Hope you are out riding and enjoying spring!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Western Corners - Part I
Hello Friends! Thank you for your patience (I will be asking for more after this post). I am still working through some major upheavals in my daily routine. I haven't slipped into a groove yet and it is throwing everything off! But I do have the start of the adventure written down and would love to share it if you would enjoy reading it. To commence:
I needed to spend some time clearing my heart and soul. What better way than on the bike. Unfortunately my last two weeks of stress prevented me from even thinking about the how, when or where. So the time crept up too quickly and I hadn't made any decisions.
I did know that my tires were not up to the task at all. I had ordered the Michelin Pilot Road 3's two weeks ago. But I hadn't been notified of their arrival. Since my shop isn't open on Sunday or Monday I was having a difficult time with the whole "wait" process. I contacted another shop that was open Monday to find out that the tires are still on back order everywhere. I wasn't going anywhere if I couldn't get new tires.
Tuesday morning rolls around. I contact my shop and after a couple misunderstandings they have a set of tires for me. And they actually were the Michelin's! Makes me happy since I don't have to make the decision of going for another set of the ones I have on. Or not going on my trip. It takes about 20 minutes to remove the rims from the bike and I hightail it to the shop for the swap.
Mr. Oilburner and I had ridden to the Northeast one. There are some great roads around there. As well as the fun of the Eastern Continental Divide. And it was then that I realized that I had visited two other corners without Oilburner?!?! Two Thanksgivings ago I had gone to Savannah and St. Mary's. You know, when I chickened out of going to the Southwest corner? :)
I am excited to be going on a road trip. This will be my second solo, long distance, multi-day trip. I was planning on camping last time. So I am a little nervous this time around on how to get hotel rooms, as I will not be camping. I guess I will have to wing it. Should I stay in big or little cities? Should I stay at a large chain hotel or some little motel? What is safe it you don't know the town? So many questions and so little experience.
All of this has me dragging my feet a little in packing. Luckily Mr. Oilburner isn't feeling my butterflies because he is busily running around piling all my stuff together. While I am just lollygagging around collecting stuff.
Sidebar: Does anyone use saddlebag liners? We purchased the Cee Bailey liners awhile back at a great discount. I used them for the first time on this trip and LOVE THEM!! They made life so much easier taking just the liners into my room, not having to lug the hardcases. And if it fit in the liners, the liners would fit in the bags. Nice.
So all this time I am kinda sitting on the floor staring at my liners while Mr. Oilburner is fetching everything he thinks I will need and is piling it all around me. Damn. I am packing more stuff this time than I did when I had all of my camping gear! What is going on?
Then we begin discussing my top case. My little Pelican will hold only my camera and my little tool case. And if my saddlebags are full, that means I am carrying my jacket and helmet wherever I go, or will have to lock them to the bike. Mr. Oilburner offers his massively humongous 49L top case to the adventure. Surprisingly I accept. I figure that the only thing I really intend on carrying it it is the camera. There won't be much weight in it to mess up the bikes center of gravity. And it would give me lots of space to snug my helmet and jacket away if I want to go someplace.
SWEET!!
Yeah. It is quite huge, but really does come in handy.
Sorry Geoff...this was somehow deleted with the first rendition:
Geoff: Even after 850 miles I can't yet give an impression of the tires. I was experiencing some strange "skipping" and "wandering". And right now I can't be sure if it is a tire issue or a buffeting issue with that top box. I will let y know what I think of the tires when I can ride it again without the box.
Wednesday dawns with perfect blue skies clear of clouds. It's a brisk and unexpected 46F (8C). Oilburner gears up in his Gerbing's heated gear and I put on my armored pants when we gas up. I'm still on the fence with direction of travel. Figuring that I will ride to the two west side corners, I follow Oilburner part way to work towards downtown Atlanta. Lucky me, I peel off towards I-75N just as traffic starts backing up (normal rush hour traffic). I am forced to leave the carpool lane and delve into merging, and watch longingly as Oilburner remains and quickly pulls away from me. Crackling headsets and staticy "Love You's" and "Have Fun" punctuate our parting.
I head north with a little trepidation and a lot of excitement. A freeway clear of cars allows me to run at regular speed and the upper body is getting chilly. I soon stop to put on my sweater and warm up. An hour on the road and hunger starts creeping in. I finally spot an IHOP at the next exit. Been looking for that for quite a few miles. :) (Don't ask me why the helmet isn't in the top box. I really couldn't tell you...)
Breakfast is a standard two eggs, two bacon, 2 pancakes. It is small enough, but proves too much for the zipper on my armored pants. I continue on down the road, but just don't like the feel of the open armor. It's easier just to pull them off. Its warmed up by now and I am exiting the freeway soon. I won't have to worry about high wind chill.
My first corner will be the northwest one. I originally intend on chickening out of really getting deep into the corner and visiting Cloudland Canyon State Park. Tales of climbing and twisty roads, no guardrails and gravel has me nervous. But dammit! Get over it and live a little! So I head up the canyon roads. Turns out the back door roads up to the rim are very easy. There aren't any overlooks, so no view pictures from the back roads. But I think the images from Cloudland Canyon itself will suffice. :)
I'm trying to slip into the spirit of the adventure and actually make a u-turn to snap an image outside of the Villanow general store. I think I will start collecting my A-Z cities of Georgia. "V" starts my list.
I believe it is being renovated. (Duh Cupcake!! Was it the scaffolding that gave it away?) I heard some hammering inside, and probably would have been welcomed, but I decided not to enter.
I headed in the correct direction again and pulled over within 1/2 a mile to take these:
The colors are so vibrant! Though I am depressed to realize again that power lines permeate our society. It is difficult to take an image now-a-days in which they aren't present. Oh well, continue on with my adventure... A few more miles has me paying my $5 park entrance fee. I still find it humorous to wonder just where we are supposed to put those little yellow parking tags on our bikes. I mention this jokingly to the attendant and she nicely lets me know that the rangers that would check are not in today. And if I do get a ticket, just leave it with her when I leave. How very nice. for now, without any open bags I just stuff the maps, pamphlets and pass down my jacket. Hope it doesn't slip out!
I ride through all of the congested parking areas and wade through the throngs of people. OK. Fine. There are all of three cars parked. I veer towards the restrooms...to discover the "outlying" ones are closed during the off-season to conserve water.
The top box immediately pays off by being able to shrug the jacket off and stuff everything into it. And the bike looks so clean without stuff draped all over it. I'm still hiking in my motorcycle boots, but I will have to figure that out another day. Hey Bobskoot! Would you take off the boots and slip into the crocs? Where do you stash the boots?
For some reason (blond) I don't even glance at the park map and I just hit the path. The bright green leaves catch my eye:
So it won't come as a shock to any of you that I didn't have a clue what to do when presented with a fork in the path since I hadn't looked at the map, nor even thought to bring it along with me. Sure, what the heck. I will take this "path" down some rocks that seems official only because there isn't a barrier preventing me from going.
And I was rewarded with a great view.
I continued back up the path to the Nature Center...which was closed...
I made my way to another viewing area to see more waterfalls. A little difficult through all of this greenery! LOL I also noticed some people across the canyon at another viewing area. Unfortunately "out of sight, out of mind" really applied in this case and I forgot to get over there. What is our motto? "Gotta save something for next time." :)
Time to hit the road and figure out where I am going.
I had previously looked at the map and noticed little Hwy 100 closely followed the border south. So plan one was to find 100. I decided my first opportunity to head south in search was this Hwy 157 that I was coming up on. Cool. It took me a couple miles of riding down a curving, manicured path with a large swath of mown grass edging to trees to realize that I was on a plateau. I finally noticed some houses on the left with a spectacular view of sky and valley far below. The one area appearing to have an overlook was stuffed to capacity with one senior citizen bus and a mini-van. And I'm have too much fun to stop.
Teaser for next installment:
You can scroll through the images here if you haven't watched the video yet. :)
I needed to spend some time clearing my heart and soul. What better way than on the bike. Unfortunately my last two weeks of stress prevented me from even thinking about the how, when or where. So the time crept up too quickly and I hadn't made any decisions.
I did know that my tires were not up to the task at all. I had ordered the Michelin Pilot Road 3's two weeks ago. But I hadn't been notified of their arrival. Since my shop isn't open on Sunday or Monday I was having a difficult time with the whole "wait" process. I contacted another shop that was open Monday to find out that the tires are still on back order everywhere. I wasn't going anywhere if I couldn't get new tires.
Tuesday morning rolls around. I contact my shop and after a couple misunderstandings they have a set of tires for me. And they actually were the Michelin's! Makes me happy since I don't have to make the decision of going for another set of the ones I have on. Or not going on my trip. It takes about 20 minutes to remove the rims from the bike and I hightail it to the shop for the swap.
Reinstall goes quickly. The bike is checked over and it appears as if it is ready. I really have some catching up to do!! I am no where near that state.
I still don't have a clear idea of where to go. The Blue Ridge Parkway is alluring. Nice, slow, relaxing ride with wonderful vistas. It even crosses my mind that I could meet Riepe and Stiffie since I won't be able to attend the BMWMOA rally in July.
A look at the weather shows that rain may be coming into the area on Friday and stay for the weekend. However, if I head south the rain chance still exists on Friday, but the weekend has a better chance of being clear.
But where do I go if I head south???
I guess I could finish my 5 corners trip. Yea. I would love to have done them all in one trip, but I don't really have to. That seems like too much time pushing it. Now, Georgia is shaped a little strangely and I personally feel it requires 5 points to say you have hit the "corners" of the state.
Mr. Oilburner and I had ridden to the Northeast one. There are some great roads around there. As well as the fun of the Eastern Continental Divide. And it was then that I realized that I had visited two other corners without Oilburner?!?! Two Thanksgivings ago I had gone to Savannah and St. Mary's. You know, when I chickened out of going to the Southwest corner? :)
I am excited to be going on a road trip. This will be my second solo, long distance, multi-day trip. I was planning on camping last time. So I am a little nervous this time around on how to get hotel rooms, as I will not be camping. I guess I will have to wing it. Should I stay in big or little cities? Should I stay at a large chain hotel or some little motel? What is safe it you don't know the town? So many questions and so little experience.
All of this has me dragging my feet a little in packing. Luckily Mr. Oilburner isn't feeling my butterflies because he is busily running around piling all my stuff together. While I am just lollygagging around collecting stuff.
Sidebar: Does anyone use saddlebag liners? We purchased the Cee Bailey liners awhile back at a great discount. I used them for the first time on this trip and LOVE THEM!! They made life so much easier taking just the liners into my room, not having to lug the hardcases. And if it fit in the liners, the liners would fit in the bags. Nice.
So all this time I am kinda sitting on the floor staring at my liners while Mr. Oilburner is fetching everything he thinks I will need and is piling it all around me. Damn. I am packing more stuff this time than I did when I had all of my camping gear! What is going on?
Then we begin discussing my top case. My little Pelican will hold only my camera and my little tool case. And if my saddlebags are full, that means I am carrying my jacket and helmet wherever I go, or will have to lock them to the bike. Mr. Oilburner offers his massively humongous 49L top case to the adventure. Surprisingly I accept. I figure that the only thing I really intend on carrying it it is the camera. There won't be much weight in it to mess up the bikes center of gravity. And it would give me lots of space to snug my helmet and jacket away if I want to go someplace.
SWEET!!
Yeah. It is quite huge, but really does come in handy.
Sorry Geoff...this was somehow deleted with the first rendition:
Geoff: Even after 850 miles I can't yet give an impression of the tires. I was experiencing some strange "skipping" and "wandering". And right now I can't be sure if it is a tire issue or a buffeting issue with that top box. I will let y know what I think of the tires when I can ride it again without the box.
Wednesday dawns with perfect blue skies clear of clouds. It's a brisk and unexpected 46F (8C). Oilburner gears up in his Gerbing's heated gear and I put on my armored pants when we gas up. I'm still on the fence with direction of travel. Figuring that I will ride to the two west side corners, I follow Oilburner part way to work towards downtown Atlanta. Lucky me, I peel off towards I-75N just as traffic starts backing up (normal rush hour traffic). I am forced to leave the carpool lane and delve into merging, and watch longingly as Oilburner remains and quickly pulls away from me. Crackling headsets and staticy "Love You's" and "Have Fun" punctuate our parting.
I head north with a little trepidation and a lot of excitement. A freeway clear of cars allows me to run at regular speed and the upper body is getting chilly. I soon stop to put on my sweater and warm up. An hour on the road and hunger starts creeping in. I finally spot an IHOP at the next exit. Been looking for that for quite a few miles. :) (Don't ask me why the helmet isn't in the top box. I really couldn't tell you...)
Breakfast is a standard two eggs, two bacon, 2 pancakes. It is small enough, but proves too much for the zipper on my armored pants. I continue on down the road, but just don't like the feel of the open armor. It's easier just to pull them off. Its warmed up by now and I am exiting the freeway soon. I won't have to worry about high wind chill.
My first corner will be the northwest one. I originally intend on chickening out of really getting deep into the corner and visiting Cloudland Canyon State Park. Tales of climbing and twisty roads, no guardrails and gravel has me nervous. But dammit! Get over it and live a little! So I head up the canyon roads. Turns out the back door roads up to the rim are very easy. There aren't any overlooks, so no view pictures from the back roads. But I think the images from Cloudland Canyon itself will suffice. :)
I'm trying to slip into the spirit of the adventure and actually make a u-turn to snap an image outside of the Villanow general store. I think I will start collecting my A-Z cities of Georgia. "V" starts my list.
I believe it is being renovated. (Duh Cupcake!! Was it the scaffolding that gave it away?) I heard some hammering inside, and probably would have been welcomed, but I decided not to enter.
I headed in the correct direction again and pulled over within 1/2 a mile to take these:
The colors are so vibrant! Though I am depressed to realize again that power lines permeate our society. It is difficult to take an image now-a-days in which they aren't present. Oh well, continue on with my adventure... A few more miles has me paying my $5 park entrance fee. I still find it humorous to wonder just where we are supposed to put those little yellow parking tags on our bikes. I mention this jokingly to the attendant and she nicely lets me know that the rangers that would check are not in today. And if I do get a ticket, just leave it with her when I leave. How very nice. for now, without any open bags I just stuff the maps, pamphlets and pass down my jacket. Hope it doesn't slip out!
I ride through all of the congested parking areas and wade through the throngs of people. OK. Fine. There are all of three cars parked. I veer towards the restrooms...to discover the "outlying" ones are closed during the off-season to conserve water.
The top box immediately pays off by being able to shrug the jacket off and stuff everything into it. And the bike looks so clean without stuff draped all over it. I'm still hiking in my motorcycle boots, but I will have to figure that out another day. Hey Bobskoot! Would you take off the boots and slip into the crocs? Where do you stash the boots?
For some reason (blond) I don't even glance at the park map and I just hit the path. The bright green leaves catch my eye:
So it won't come as a shock to any of you that I didn't have a clue what to do when presented with a fork in the path since I hadn't looked at the map, nor even thought to bring it along with me. Sure, what the heck. I will take this "path" down some rocks that seems official only because there isn't a barrier preventing me from going.
And I was rewarded with a great view.
I continued back up the path to the Nature Center...which was closed...
I made my way to another viewing area to see more waterfalls. A little difficult through all of this greenery! LOL I also noticed some people across the canyon at another viewing area. Unfortunately "out of sight, out of mind" really applied in this case and I forgot to get over there. What is our motto? "Gotta save something for next time." :)
Time to hit the road and figure out where I am going.
I had previously looked at the map and noticed little Hwy 100 closely followed the border south. So plan one was to find 100. I decided my first opportunity to head south in search was this Hwy 157 that I was coming up on. Cool. It took me a couple miles of riding down a curving, manicured path with a large swath of mown grass edging to trees to realize that I was on a plateau. I finally noticed some houses on the left with a spectacular view of sky and valley far below. The one area appearing to have an overlook was stuffed to capacity with one senior citizen bus and a mini-van. And I'm have too much fun to stop.
Teaser for next installment:
You can scroll through the images here if you haven't watched the video yet. :)
Monday, March 14, 2011
It Was a Goldilocks Kind of Day
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was...
Wait a minute!! What am I saying? It was the best of times!! Today was going to be beautiful and we were hopping on the bikes for a very long ride.
Yeah, the day started chillier than expected. Much chillier. The thermometer read 33F (0.5C) at 7:30 AM. Brrrrr! Especially knowing that it would soon be nearing the 70F (21C) mark. Bed was too warm and comfy to get up for that. So we took our time waking up and getting out. But get up we did and hit the road. Road construction had us thinking up creative ways to get to the other side of Atlanta. And a fuel stop turned into some good-natured ribbing.
In case you haven't been listening, I live in Georgia. :) And Georgia isn't flat. So when stopping for fuel, or anyplace really, I will generally try to exit the facility so that I can turn right. Just makes life easier and less dangerous. Sometimes you do have to make those lefts, but I attempt to mitigate them. And I also try to avoid having to start moving on an up hill. Dry clutch and all that. (You do believe me, right??)
The entire time we're fueling up I'm weighing my exit strategy options in my mind. If we exit the one we came in we can turn right (safety) but will immediately need to turn left at the intersection to enter the freeway on ramp. But if we use the other exit we are more likely to have a green light to directly enter the on ramp, but I will have to turn left out of the gas station AND start on an uphill.
With all these heavy decisions going through my head, I haven't mentioned any of this to Mr. Oilburner. But I decided to try on my big girl panties and headed for the uphill exit. All turns, stops, starts and lights are executed flawlessly. As soon as we are out of the lot, not even through the intersection yet, Mr. Oilburner admits his wonderment at my choice of leaving the exit I did. (Sometimes he knows me too well...) I had to admit to him that it was an internal debate that I had struggled through. He had a good laugh at my expense. I'll get even...
Today we are headed towards Providence Canyon State Park. It's one of those places that is just on the cusp of needing to be an overnighter if you go there, by any mode of transportation. It is about 3 hours away, by slab. But there is so much to see and do and hike and what-have-you that it makes for a stupendously log day if there is an automatic 6+ hour travel time.
Unfortunately, I have had this particular bee in my bonnet since autumn. It's south and is very, very, warm in the summer and I wanted to get down there before it became too hot. I was also hoping for some photo ops on the quiet back roads.
Awhile back I read on someone's blog (I wish I could remember who) about the camaraderie of motorbike riding "back in the days." It was a thought provoking little piece of when there was a time when you, as a lone rider, could hook up with another rider on the road. Swoop in to be the wing man, share a nod, the road and some miles. When it was time to split up, a nod or a wave acknowledged the appreciation of this forged bond and it was back to singleness.
I had the thrill of being able to experience this today. One of my times looking in the mirror I saw another bike behind Mr. Oilburner, falling right into formation. I assumed he would be passing soon and didn't give it much thought.
He didn't pass...
There wasn't much traffic, but every so often I would switch lanes to pass someone. I took our new friend into account and only changed lanes when he was clear. I also tried to keep us moving and his tail clear of rushing cars. He was in sync immediately, moving lanes as soon as I turned my signal on showing my intent. And since he remained with us for 80 miles he must have enjoyed our pace. Imagine a big, pretty Harley Dyna voluntarily filling in our little BMW pac.
For a very long time Mr. Oilburner and I speculated on his intentions. Was someone all the way on the other side of the world, who knew where we were going and had access to Mr. Tell-Tale, my SPOT track, having us followed? Was this guy following us to conk us on the heads at the next stop and steal one of our bikes? Conspiracy theories abounded. Especially when he stayed with us through a freeway change to a lesser traveled thoroughfare. After the theorizing stopped we settled in for the camaraderie. There was only a small pang of disappointment that he didn't follow us down the off-ramp to relieve our 100 mile saddle soreness. It would have been nice to share stories over a soda. I guess that is just part of the romance of the open road.
By this time we realized that we had left lunch on the kitchen counter. We weren't thrilled with the prospect of going into town to get anything. So we decided to see if the convenience store at this gas station had anything deli-like to offer. Not much luck for anything that looked good, but we settled on a couple hot dogs and a box of wings. It was only another 30 miles of empty back roads to our first destination, Florence Marina State Park.
Ah....so peaceful!!
Ok, faithful friends. This is what middle Georgia looks like...
Ok...if you have looked at a map...that is actually Alabama over the waterway. But the view behind me is fairly similar. :)
We enjoyed the sounds of the birds, watching the squirrels and listening to the occasional boat on the water. We took some time for a couple photo ops of the bikes under the Spanish Moss. Since I wasn't willing to do the dirty deed of putting the bikes on grass where this is no parking...I let Mr. Oilburner be the one to garner any dirty looks. Since there weren't many people about it wasn't an issue.
Providence Canyon is only 8 miles down the road. And we are treated with the splendid sight of two C-17's crossing our path; huge and cumbersome on the ground but so powerful and graceful in the air. Such a rare treat to see two in flight.
Arriving at Providence Canyon with full tummies on a warm and quiet day has us thinking of a nap. Why not take advantage of it? We find an empty parking lot and prop the bikes in the shade. Ourselves as well. Mr. Oilburner sets to sawing logs, but my mind is wandering. I take a few pictures of the world from ground level. I listen to the birds. I hear the people walking along the paths. The cars buzz by. And the I hear the first "Plane of Summer." The high and far off plane with that perfect drone marking SPRING for me. AAAAHHHH!!! Mixed feelings that winter is going away and summer will be here too soon. But right now is absolutely perfect.
It's nearing that time when we need to think of heading home. I stroll along the canyon rim path for a few shots while Mr. Oilburner folds the blanket. Honestly, how far can you hike in armored pants and riding boots? I didn't travel far.
We decided on a more direct route home instead of back tracking the way we came. Only more direct equals longer time as it will be along the back roads; a 4 hour tour compared to a 3 hour blur. I start seeing signs for other landmarks that were also on my hit list. But we are out of time for today. Until we pass a sign for Plains, GA and I asked Mr. Oilburner if he wants to see The Peanut, one of those ludicrous weird landmarks that we enjoy collecting. So we did. :)
The back roads home were gorgeous. We passed through smoky valleys filled with the aroma of burning wood. We floated through quiet neighborhoods where the smell of back yard barbecues wafted on the breeze. We passed through small towns where the sidewalks were being rolled up for the evening. We waved to families sitting on front porches watching the cars speed by. We exclaimed about hearing the Spring Peeper frogs in the swamp through our helmets and over the engine noise. Nearing the major metropolis the slow life dwindles and we jumped on the freeway to make some time getting home.
We parked our steads in the garage a little before 9PM. Luckily these steeds don't require feed and watering after their rub down. Our trusty steeds had carried us 410 miles (660 KM) in the last 9 hours. They received well deserved hugs and pets. Then we left them in a dark garage for a little slumber.
More pictures from the day can be viewed at Flickr.
And our track:
Wait a minute!! What am I saying? It was the best of times!! Today was going to be beautiful and we were hopping on the bikes for a very long ride.
Yeah, the day started chillier than expected. Much chillier. The thermometer read 33F (0.5C) at 7:30 AM. Brrrrr! Especially knowing that it would soon be nearing the 70F (21C) mark. Bed was too warm and comfy to get up for that. So we took our time waking up and getting out. But get up we did and hit the road. Road construction had us thinking up creative ways to get to the other side of Atlanta. And a fuel stop turned into some good-natured ribbing.
In case you haven't been listening, I live in Georgia. :) And Georgia isn't flat. So when stopping for fuel, or anyplace really, I will generally try to exit the facility so that I can turn right. Just makes life easier and less dangerous. Sometimes you do have to make those lefts, but I attempt to mitigate them. And I also try to avoid having to start moving on an up hill. Dry clutch and all that. (You do believe me, right??)
The entire time we're fueling up I'm weighing my exit strategy options in my mind. If we exit the one we came in we can turn right (safety) but will immediately need to turn left at the intersection to enter the freeway on ramp. But if we use the other exit we are more likely to have a green light to directly enter the on ramp, but I will have to turn left out of the gas station AND start on an uphill.
With all these heavy decisions going through my head, I haven't mentioned any of this to Mr. Oilburner. But I decided to try on my big girl panties and headed for the uphill exit. All turns, stops, starts and lights are executed flawlessly. As soon as we are out of the lot, not even through the intersection yet, Mr. Oilburner admits his wonderment at my choice of leaving the exit I did. (Sometimes he knows me too well...) I had to admit to him that it was an internal debate that I had struggled through. He had a good laugh at my expense. I'll get even...
Today we are headed towards Providence Canyon State Park. It's one of those places that is just on the cusp of needing to be an overnighter if you go there, by any mode of transportation. It is about 3 hours away, by slab. But there is so much to see and do and hike and what-have-you that it makes for a stupendously log day if there is an automatic 6+ hour travel time.
Unfortunately, I have had this particular bee in my bonnet since autumn. It's south and is very, very, warm in the summer and I wanted to get down there before it became too hot. I was also hoping for some photo ops on the quiet back roads.
Awhile back I read on someone's blog (I wish I could remember who) about the camaraderie of motorbike riding "back in the days." It was a thought provoking little piece of when there was a time when you, as a lone rider, could hook up with another rider on the road. Swoop in to be the wing man, share a nod, the road and some miles. When it was time to split up, a nod or a wave acknowledged the appreciation of this forged bond and it was back to singleness.
I had the thrill of being able to experience this today. One of my times looking in the mirror I saw another bike behind Mr. Oilburner, falling right into formation. I assumed he would be passing soon and didn't give it much thought.
He didn't pass...
There wasn't much traffic, but every so often I would switch lanes to pass someone. I took our new friend into account and only changed lanes when he was clear. I also tried to keep us moving and his tail clear of rushing cars. He was in sync immediately, moving lanes as soon as I turned my signal on showing my intent. And since he remained with us for 80 miles he must have enjoyed our pace. Imagine a big, pretty Harley Dyna voluntarily filling in our little BMW pac.
For a very long time Mr. Oilburner and I speculated on his intentions. Was someone all the way on the other side of the world, who knew where we were going and had access to Mr. Tell-Tale, my SPOT track, having us followed? Was this guy following us to conk us on the heads at the next stop and steal one of our bikes? Conspiracy theories abounded. Especially when he stayed with us through a freeway change to a lesser traveled thoroughfare. After the theorizing stopped we settled in for the camaraderie. There was only a small pang of disappointment that he didn't follow us down the off-ramp to relieve our 100 mile saddle soreness. It would have been nice to share stories over a soda. I guess that is just part of the romance of the open road.
 |
| Ferocious little beast trying to steal my M&M's. |
By this time we realized that we had left lunch on the kitchen counter. We weren't thrilled with the prospect of going into town to get anything. So we decided to see if the convenience store at this gas station had anything deli-like to offer. Not much luck for anything that looked good, but we settled on a couple hot dogs and a box of wings. It was only another 30 miles of empty back roads to our first destination, Florence Marina State Park.
Ah....so peaceful!!
Ok, faithful friends. This is what middle Georgia looks like...
Ok...if you have looked at a map...that is actually Alabama over the waterway. But the view behind me is fairly similar. :)
We enjoyed the sounds of the birds, watching the squirrels and listening to the occasional boat on the water. We took some time for a couple photo ops of the bikes under the Spanish Moss. Since I wasn't willing to do the dirty deed of putting the bikes on
Providence Canyon is only 8 miles down the road. And we are treated with the splendid sight of two C-17's crossing our path; huge and cumbersome on the ground but so powerful and graceful in the air. Such a rare treat to see two in flight.
Arriving at Providence Canyon with full tummies on a warm and quiet day has us thinking of a nap. Why not take advantage of it? We find an empty parking lot and prop the bikes in the shade. Ourselves as well. Mr. Oilburner sets to sawing logs, but my mind is wandering. I take a few pictures of the world from ground level. I listen to the birds. I hear the people walking along the paths. The cars buzz by. And the I hear the first "Plane of Summer." The high and far off plane with that perfect drone marking SPRING for me. AAAAHHHH!!! Mixed feelings that winter is going away and summer will be here too soon. But right now is absolutely perfect.
It's nearing that time when we need to think of heading home. I stroll along the canyon rim path for a few shots while Mr. Oilburner folds the blanket. Honestly, how far can you hike in armored pants and riding boots? I didn't travel far.
We decided on a more direct route home instead of back tracking the way we came. Only more direct equals longer time as it will be along the back roads; a 4 hour tour compared to a 3 hour blur. I start seeing signs for other landmarks that were also on my hit list. But we are out of time for today. Until we pass a sign for Plains, GA and I asked Mr. Oilburner if he wants to see The Peanut, one of those ludicrous weird landmarks that we enjoy collecting. So we did. :)
The back roads home were gorgeous. We passed through smoky valleys filled with the aroma of burning wood. We floated through quiet neighborhoods where the smell of back yard barbecues wafted on the breeze. We passed through small towns where the sidewalks were being rolled up for the evening. We waved to families sitting on front porches watching the cars speed by. We exclaimed about hearing the Spring Peeper frogs in the swamp through our helmets and over the engine noise. Nearing the major metropolis the slow life dwindles and we jumped on the freeway to make some time getting home.
We parked our steads in the garage a little before 9PM. Luckily these steeds don't require feed and watering after their rub down. Our trusty steeds had carried us 410 miles (660 KM) in the last 9 hours. They received well deserved hugs and pets. Then we left them in a dark garage for a little slumber.
More pictures from the day can be viewed at Flickr.
And our track:
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