Snow covered mountains to sandy desert

It's 5am and a Bleep, bleep bleep,bleep bleep, that now familiar apple alarm, announces to a bunch of sleepy heads, that it's time for Josh and Mike's excellent adventure. Only problem is - it's dark outside and it shouldn't be - something is not right so I roll over and catch a few more winks at the insistence of my sore muscles. Last night, at late dinner, we agreed that, at first daylight, Dave was going to run the million dollar highway (alone) and Josh and I were going into the mountains - off roading. In my case, the GS was calling - my BMW is called a GS, which is short form for the German phrase "Gelende und Strasse". Gelende translates into Lands or terrain (und Strasse translates into streets - of course). Josh just wanted to see how his new (to him) Versys handles off road, since Versys is short for Versatile System and Kawasaki advertized (when the bike was first released) that it could go off road. It's light enough, but the street tires on the loose gravel, in a steep serpentine … could be interesting.

A touch of grey peeks through the crack in the curtains, which says there is definitely light out there, but the colour is wrong. A quick peek provides the explanation - the clouds are low, it's rained 'cuase the bikes are wet (Tom will be pissed off because last night was the one night he didn't cover his bike - it is polished to perfection before each ride). If I crink my head to the one side, there is a hint of blue which means the it's going to be a sunny day, once the clouds burn off. I look back and Josh already has his gear on - he's raring to go, which eliminates all excuses for one more wink of sleep.

By the time we get the bikes started, the clouds have dropped a bit more, but Josh is raring to go so after Jeff takes our "clean bikes" photo, off we go. The dirt road services a mining operation, some mountain "suburbs" and a hand full of campgrounds. The road is gravel and the rain has made the fine dust into an oil like mud that is definitely slippery. We are greeted with a bridge over a deep valley that is experiencing a raging torrent due to last night's rain - the first of many photo opps. The first hill has a steep switchback, so Josh's will and bike are put to their first test. The Beemer goes first and of course has no problem. Josh takes off, builds momentum (needed or else the rear tire will spin like mad in it's effort beat gravity), and with his arse end weaving a bit, makes it up his first dirt challenge. The road simply twists and climbs for a few miles as it follows the river into the mountain gap. The homes along the way are well built with huge stacks of firewood, but what do they do in the winter???

We reach an interesting part in the road, where the valley ends, and there is just mountain. Like the million dollar highway, the solution is to carve a notch along the cliff, put a bit of gravel on it to smooth out the rocks, and call it a road. This one is fun because it's real narrow and slick from the rain, and, we have been passed by several four wheel drive vehicles, so we wonder - what do you do on a road that is one and a half vehicles wide and there is one vehicle going up and one vehicle going down? After all, Newton's law of gravity says that what goes up - must come down, and since these roads go to nowhere, all that traffic needs to return. The first turn gives us a clue. The outside of the turn has a little space that could hold a vehicle in an emergency and there is a notch just before the curve, where one could tuck in, but boy is it tight for a second vehicle to pass. We are OK since the bikes are very narrow, but two of those dual real wheel pickups - that could be interesting. A steel cross surrounded by plastic flowers, tell the other half of the story. Make a mistake and you become someone's fond memory.

At the next bend the clouds part a bit and we notice that the mountain is white - that rain that soaked the bikes at town level, created snow at the top levels, and we were heading into a winter wonderland - a new dimension to our adventure. The temp gauge on my console is flashing to warn of freezing conditions. The beemer is built for this, but a Versys with street tires??? Josh is beaming and hollering in exhilaration, so his vote is to go ahead. The next section has a tunnel carved out of the side on a drop off so steep, that both of us hug the right side water rut beside the wall because you don't want to slip here. We notice a cut on the other side of the mountain that heads to even higher elevation and wonder how far this goes. The trees are now snow covered and it's below freezing - there's ice on the puddles, but we press on regardless. There is a mining operation here which explains where all vehicles are going. The mine has a great tailings field at the top of the valley - I guess the stream flowing into the valley is mineral laced from any run off in the tailings field. Further up, the mine sports a huge hole in the granite that is obviously where vehicles go in and ore comes out. It looks like a very new operation so the impact on the surrounding is minimal. We reach a small plateau where the road jumps over a wooden, snow covered bridge, where the animal tracks tell us who really owns this area. The road gets really steep and looses the gravel - which means it is now a 4 wheel drive only road. The sign advertises that Imogene pass is the destination on this path. I think that the beemer can take it but I am worried that it crosses the Vesys line. A quick consult with Josh and he is game - ahh the optimism of youth. I go first and am doing OK but near the top, the road twists rapidly and gets uglier and more snow covered. I am responsible for Josh so it's time to make the call - that's it, we've reached our limit. Later, the hotel owner confirms this is a good decision. Apparently Imogene wont be passable until mid to late June.

On the way down, we pass a Suburban, covered in snow - someone is camping up here. The trip down is as fun as the trip up, but on the way down, one gets a better sense of how steep the road is. The cloud cover keep changing so we get pictures of sun lighting up the fresh mountain snow. We stop at a few ledges and take pictures of the valley and each other, hanging out in space. Once the roads go back to sensible, I hand the Beemer over to Josh so he can see why I was able go some much faster over the slick and rough stuff. The bike really shows that it was meant for this in-between riding. I would not want to take it on a real off road - on needs a 450 cc dedicated enduro bike to do that safely, but the beemer LOVES these conditions. It hangs it's back end out in a very predictable manner when throttle is applied going in, and exiting out of dirt corners. Too much fun of a 50+ year old sporting bones that break easier, and take longer to heal than the teen ager who learned to ride like that on motocross bikes.

For me, the Versys is functional, but the suspension quickly reaches it's limits. The tires do slip, but it's predictable. We find our way back to the hotel and the guys are up for breakfast. It's Dave's birthday, so he has gifted himself a rip snort up the million dollar highway. We later learned that he uses this to practice his technique for cornering and braking and he has managed to break 100mph in the long twisties, that shoulder the drop to oblivion. If he slipped, he would have more seconds than usual to enjoy the various terrain between the road and river below.

At breakfast, the decision is made to change the adventure. We are going to Arizona so we'll make a detour to Grand Canyon. On the ride back to Durango, it starts to snow on the top of the million dollar highway, and it's cold. Soon after Durango, we make a right and the terrain starts changing immediately into desert configuration. The mountains turn into hills, the shrubs start to shrivel and grass turns to sand. The temps start to rise and soon it's close to 30C. From snow covered mountain, above the tree line, to desert sand in one day. The roads in the desert are straight lines and in long sections, perfect condition. The boys with the fast bikes are now in their element and take off to test their machines and will on high speed runs. This blog may be read by law enforcement officers so I won't publish top speeds, but one machine (rider to remain anonymous to protect the guilty) got the bike airborne on one little bump.

Lunch is in Cortez Nevada and a small place called Mr Happy's Bakery. Who couldn't resist a joint with such a name, while adventure biking. The proprietor greets us and we talk motorcycles. He has a custom build Triumph powered desert scrambler handing from the wall of his bar as evidence that he is serious about biking in this region. Our server is exceptionally attractive with a pager that is wedged in her ample cleavage (gender hint) that buzzes (and draws attention) when the food is ready. We split our orders in to many small extras so we can see her again and again.

The bar has an elderly patron who is yelling out his life story to anyone and no one. He isn't drinking booze so it either huffing or lack of meds, but his stories are humorous and his delivery is mad. The girls do an excellent job of managing him - it seems this is not an uncommon event at Mr Happy's. We briefly contemplate lifting the owner's Smart car sideways on the sidewalk but wisely decide that we do not have sufficient working relationship with the local constabulary to get away with it if the owner decides our brand of humour doesn't make him laugh.


We stop at the four corners - a place where Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico and Utah connect. The Natives have a monument there and booths to purchase souvenirs. It's getting well into the afternoon and we need to get lodging so we blast down the highway to get as close to Grand Canyon as possible. In this type of riding, one follows a straight road to the horizon, so one breaks the ride up into sections, horizon to horizon. The straight lines are broken by dry river valleys that provide the occasional hill and every once in a while, a small bend in the road changes the direction a tiny bit.

The wind is incredible and constant. It pushes the bike around on the road which helps keep the rider awake. Nothing like being push half way across your lane by a gust to keep the adrenaline flowing. On my tall bike, I spend a lot of time pushing the handlebars over to set right lean angle into the wind. The duck bill on my visor puts a lot of pressure on my neck so I know there will be sore muscles at the end of this ride. The wind also pushes a lot of sand across the desert. It's like a Collingwood snow squall but the sky is coloured red. The sand swirls across the roadway and it's pattern is abruptly altered when the bike slices through it's path. The sand gets into every nook and cranny, both on the bike and rider. We find our way to Tuba City, on a Hopi reserve and end up at the Legacy Inn, a 3 year old facility with a pool. We secure the bikes and spend an hour in the pool to refresh and and get cleanse our bodies of the sand that has somehow found a hiding place in every nook and cranny. We were in this for half a day. Imaging what the original settlers felt like when they found a river after days or weeks in the same conditions.

It was a long day, with lots of miles. Tomorrow, we do Grand Canyon via the long route - through Falstaff and Route 66. 

Tuesday Experience - Million Dollar highway

Tuesday Experience - Million Dollar highway

We wake up to a nice bright, sunny day but it's crisp. The bikes are ready, but we need caffeine. That mission leads us to the local gas bar since there isn't too much else open, either due to time of season or bankruptcy. I guess it's tough to etch a living in a part time town. We heard in Silverton, that in the off season, restaurant owners in a town will meet to determine which month each business gets and the rest close down until it's their month. Not a lot of Porsches in the drive ways (unless you own a mine).

Today, we are off to the famous Million dollar highway. Each of us have heard of that roadway, but none of us really know what to expect when we get there. The ride starts off nicely through the Wolf mountain, were we pull over to inspect a helicopter sitting in the ski lodge parking lot. Tom and Jeff engage the pilot in a conversation while the rest of us attend to the things you do during a rest stop; adjust equipment, take photos, water the bushes. I wish my brain was turned on because then I would have realized that I left my Kriega water pack back at the rail lodge.

The next section of road, to Durango, was just like touring in Northern Ontario, only with spectacular mountains in the background. The million dollar highway starts about 20 miles out of Durango, just like any other mountain highway. It only lives up to it's reputation just before Silverton, where the road is carved out of the side of the mountain. The terrain is so steep, that the road follows the river cuts, resulting in very sharp curves in a V formation where the tops of the V provide an opportunity to fly into eternity as just reward for making a mistake. In this ride, the winds were blowing down the valley, picking up speed and then rushing up the river cut, which turned that section into a wind tunnel. While the curve was a safe curve (since there was hard stuff if you went wide), the wind pushed each of us across the lanes - another adrenaline rush. The rest of the road was another awe inspiring ride with views of mountain plateaus surrounded by snow peaks, one, more spectacular than the next. Dave, Josh and Tom were doing the angel flight on their bikes (Jeff and I are chickens) at the sight.
Silverton is right in the middle of the ride and we stopped to rest and hydrate. This is over 10,000 feet altitude and one feels it with a light head and dry mouth. We check out the local tourist center, which is located in the former home of a rich local miner (large and elaborate) and try to imaging what life was like in the town at it's heyday, when it was pulling silver out of the ground by the ton. The black and white photos showed miners at work in what would be deemed unacceptable safety conditions in this era. We decide to stay and explore Silverton and only drive as far as Ouray.
I know this place from the adventure blogs and can see the offroad trail in my imagination - got to see it for real, so I beg off the town visit for a quick offroad. The boys understand my need for dirt and agree - even though solo is not a good idea at this time of the year due to snow and terrain. I take off to the hills and start passing the actual mine artifacts that were on the black and white photos in the travel center, including the arial tramway that carried ore from the mountain veins to the rail cars. These buckets also served as transportation for the miners, who were pictured hanging off the buckets, one leg in the air, no safety harnesses, hundreds of feet over the river valley below. The road is in good condition since it serves a camping area and a few lodges. The ruins provide several opportunities to get photos of the bike near ruins, which will feed an adventure forum, dedicated to that purpose. The road eventually takes me to my objective; the trail head to cinnamon pass. This pass is low enough that I could make it and stay out of the snow, but it's taken 35 minutes to get here and I am concerned that the guys are finished their town exploring adventure and will start to worry about why I am taking so long, so I take a few pictures of the bike on the trail and then turn around for the blast back. The trail is a bit technical, steep and narrow so it takes a bit of arm wrestling with the bike to turn it around - I still have full touring gear weighing close to 100 lbs, and the exertion leaves me breathless at altitude. Another reminder why a flatlander shouldn't go into the mountains alone.

Back in town, I can't find the guys. Turns out, that they were having so much fun that they weren't done. We have a soup and coffee in the local restaurant, and chat it up with the proprietor and his wife. It's clear that she is the boss and cook, and she tells us the secret of her soup - a native Indian corn product (I will get the name) that has the texture of spetzle dumplings, with that unique corn taste.

We were a little disappointed with the Million Dollar highway since the first section was only a little more interesting than the other spectacular mountain roads, so we set off on the section to Ouray hoping for better. The lady at the restaurant told us to be careful about tourists on the next section, driving in the opposite lane because they are terrified about the massive dropoff that is literally at the side of the highway. It's a narrow road both lanes, white line, and then drop to eternity.

With heightened expectations, we head up the road. When we round the turn to the "good" section, we are greeted with a road that cuts through a semi tunnel, carved out of the mountain to accommodate the cars - that's what we are talking about. The ride down is on the safe side - by the mountain so we know we need to do this ride again going up. The road cuts through the mountain with a few mild twisties. Later, Dave, as a birthday present, would hit 100 mph on the uphill stretch, with a level of exhilaration that drugs could never buy.

Ouray looks like a Swiss town, snuggled in the notch of a valley with the river that formed the valley flowing through the middle of town. We find an Inn right with a room facing the river which provides the soothing white noise that lulls us to sleep that night. Another successful day.

On Wednesday, Josh and I get up early to a day with low clouds and rain. It was our day to explore a mountain road that leads high into the peaks. Little did we know that at altitude, that rain turned into snow. More about that adventure in the next post.

A sampler of mountain county

I am sitting on a happily worn couch, with a quilt over my lap, 'cause it's a bit chilly in the mountains, in a century old rail station that has been turned into the signature building for a camp that rents cabins to tourists. The sun has started to rise but the mountains out our window are still in covered in shade, waiting warm their surface so that the spring cycle of flowers and food can continue anew, just like it did over a hundred years ago when this cabin was a spanking new rail terminal (likely serving a mining town) and the million years before, when mother earth was doing it's thing, building and eroding mountains and shaping the land into the playground for 5 guys on bikes. I realize that this is a selfish thought but it sets the stage to try and explain what we experienced in today's ride.

My limited vocabulary or business and computer terms cannot begin to describe what we experienced in this Colorado ride. Photos cannot reproduce the images that flooded our brains because technology cannot capture the panoramas and emotion that ten eyes in motion observed this day. Combine the wide variety of landscapes that make up the aging mountain range that is the stage for our adventure, with the wide open sensory input that can only be experienced on a motorcycle, on a bright and sunny day, with just enough clouds to give the sky some character. Sprinkle the varying scent of wild forest, snow melting on mountain peaks, pine forests, and one starts to get an inkling of our experience.

To understand our experience, one needs to understand the stage for this grand adventure. The rockies in this area are middle aged. that means that the peaks have risen and are well in their erosion process. The mountains are somewhat rounded because their original exteriors have eroded into layers of pebble and stone through wind, water and gravity. Rivers have formed to carry off the meltwater from the thick snow pack and in their process, cut valleys and created plateaus, and everything in between. Many of the roads, follow old abandoned rail lines that followed the rivers through the valleys. It is here where we cut across steep canyons, where there is mountain above, with warning signs and barriers to protect the little humans from "falling rocks" as they succumb to wind, water and gravity. On these roads, we need to be warned and protected from the forces that shaped this incredible area. In the canyons, the water cuts deep - one has heard water described as the universal solvent, a hypothesis that is proven her in majestic splendour.

The rivers run fast here and depending on the hardness of the surrounding rock, create sculptures of a variety and randomness that require years of university study to classify. For us, it creates eye popping vistas.  River home are incredibly popular here and the homes have impressive entrance roads that often need to cross cross the river over a custom bridge, but all twist up a hill to get to a safe spot that will not be swept away in one of the massive spring floods that occasionally rush through here. The tell tale is the river debris that can sit 50 feet up the canyon wall - can't imagine the volume of water required to accomplish that.

From the rivers, we climb up switch backs to the notch between mountains. These paved roads were once horse paths and followed the only way to navigate to the different towns. One wonders that motivated the early settlers to build the paths and the suffering they experience while discovering and developing the paths. At this time of the year, the tops of mountains are still covered in snow. The air temperatures are no less than 6C but we did switch to cold weather clothing while at the top. A lot of riding is done at 10,000 feet or more. The ride up is all about enjoying each curve and avoiding the drop-offs while gawking at the scenery. The many signs advising us to avoid wildlife advertise mountain goats, elk, deer and cattle. When we reach the top, a sign advertises our altitude and the name of the original explorer that this pass is dedicated to. At the peak, on the other side, the geology changes, and we are rewarded with another spectacular vista, completely different than the one that engulfed us on the ride up. We pause to marvel, and press on, eager to absorb the sights and smells that this part of God's creation has served up for us.

The mountain plains can be at high altitude or in valley levels. In each one, a river dominates the scene with bushes, trees and grasses that have fought to establish their existence in what can be a hostile world. One one of these rides, we learned what caused the apparent "snow" that we saw during the night drive to Colorado springs. It's flowers. There are fields covered in these small white flowers, so dense, that it looks like snow. I guess that they have a small window to flower in the spring, and they saved their show - just for us.

Enjoying nature drives our activity on this ride. We don't go fast because we want to enjoy the canvas that each ares presents to us and we are afraid we'll miss the details. We don't go fast because herds of deer or elk cross the highways. We stop frequently to hydrate because the dry mountain air parches the mouth. Having said that, the variety of roads provides all the technical one could ever want. We don't ride fast because pods of po-po are everywhere - perhaps it's just memorial week end - but they were active.

Tom has been scheming for the next ride and we are starting to prepare our gear. He gets this gleeful look on his face, claps his hand and announces "Gentlemen (he uses that phrase generously), we have a fantastic ride ahead of us" and we just smile inside, knowing that we'll be tired this evening, but satisfied in ways that only a bike tour can provide.

I can't explain why we do this adventuring, but when in the midst, one can't imaging why someone would sit on a beach or visit an artificial theme park. One doesn't need to visit foreign lands to find adventure. North America can dish out more than a lifetime worth - if you seek it out. And with that, we start the next day's adventure.

Start of the Colorado trip and day One - Pikes Peak

Hectic schedule getting ready for the trip. Everyone was lining up last minute business or trip prep items. Julie and I took Ursula to Frank Kapralik's funeral visitation and I was worried that I would be late for the trip departure. Fortunately, Jeff and Tom had last minute business so I had plenty of time to finish packing. The items that were missed will no doubt reveal themselves at the most inopportune time.

For the trip, Tom ordered a dual axle trailer and spent months customizing it to carry 6 bikes. His work paid off in spades when the trailer performed perfectly - without incident. Can't ask for more. Jeff acquired a GMC Suburban with was perfect for pulling the trailer and holding five motorcycle drivers and their gear. By sharing driving duties, we made the trip in 30 hours. Steve Reinschmidt, a great individual, arranged for us to store the Suburban and trailer and helped us set up the gear. He even accompanied us to the start of the Pikes Peak ride.

We were tired. There is only so much sleep that one can get in the vehicle on the road. 2 hour interrupted naps don't count as rest, so when we finally started riding, everyone was a bit off. Balance was off, thought process was off, heck, even balance was off. But why let something like that interrupt a trip to the top of Pikes peak, an 14,110 summit, that is still covered in snow.

Off we went, starting slow, then building momentum and passing cars when the opportunity presented itself. The road rewarded us with a very steep first section, overlooking the approaches to the mountain. One really gets an appreciation, that this mountain really juts up as a peak in the middle of a plain. The world is relatively flat (well, rolling hills), approaching the mountain, and bang - this 14,000 foot peak pops up right in the middle.  When we hit the steep sections - there was no passing. The name of the game was "behave" and survive. Parts of this mountain are sheer cliff and the road had to be carved out of those sections. On a bike, one couldn't fully appreciate the splendour of the vistas, because the bike goes where you point your eyes. On the Blue Ridge Parkway, the drops were 800 feet, which was deadly enough - here the drops were eternal. I found myself hugging the yellow line "just in case". The rise on the roads was incredible. On a switch back, the radius of the turns were as steep as possible - really, so tight, that a car could barely negotiate the turn. On a fully loaded bike, that means first gear, crank you head around to "see" your line, bank the bike over hard and crank the throttle. Just to make live a little more interesting, throw in a bit of gravel, kicked out by vehicles that were a little to long, or snow melt (or both at once), and yeah, it gets technical. Jeff overheated his clutch on the ride up - it's that steep.

This is definitely not for beginners, but that is what we came here for. In prior rides, we experienced similar conditions at any time - Grandfather mountain in the Smokies, Tail of the Dragon etc. but this road combined them all. Ironically, this is the dream that drove me to purchase the F800GS, only the other tours were on unpaved roads just like this i.e. engineer pass, which is on our route, but will not be ridden since our group is only road oriented. I'm thinking that without some more experience, I could not imagine riding a dirt road with this profile unless there was another experienced rider along. This road also traversed the variety of terrain that one experiences on a the Engineers pass, I get a real feel for the area. Even more amazing than the views, was the fact that bicyclists were riding to the top.

On the ride to the top, I noticed that my breathing was becoming more laboured and mouth was dry and parched. The effects of altitude are unbelievable. At the top, we were all grins and giggles, but everyone noticed right away that they were dizzy as soon as the helmets came off. Everyone was a bit pale in the face - something new for each rider.  In fact, everywhere on the top, once could see people suffering in varying degrees from the altitude. Later in the restaurant, there was one boy who was so sick, he was hiding his head under his hoodie and could not get up from the table. Tom (in true ride leader form) - very wisely suggested that the parents call a paramedic (there were many on top) to administer oxygen.

The top has some spectacular vistas so we watered up, ate protein bars for sugar (an effort to ward off the dizzies) and wandered off to take some shots. The views of the plains to the east, and mountains to the north, south and east gave us a hint of the rides to come. The snow was still 6 feet thick up here - way cool.

I started to get a bit too dizzy and started getting concerned about having enough acuity to safely manoeuvre the bike back down the steep roads, so I let the guys know that I was heading down. The lack of sleep and inadequate acclimatization, combined with thoughts of blacking out on that road, combined with a weird pain in my lungs/shoulders said - enough. I missed the group motorcycle shot by the 14,000 ft peak sign, but safety first, head down. On a few stops on the way down, the views were spectacular. The few photos do not adequately reproduce the splendour of the vistas, so this is one of those times that remain locked in our memories - and this is just the first day. At the mid mouton check point, rangers were testing brake temperatures and telling motorists to pull over for up to 30 minutes to let their brakes cool. The motorcycles were just waved through. They know that a high compression bike doesn't need a lot of brakes to safely get down a steep hill (chock up one more point for motorcycle touring)

I'm amazed that the park does not provide more warnings about the effects of altitude on children and elderly at the gate, plus provide more information about the availability of oxygen for those who really feel sick. We have been to every "mountain" in the east, none of which are this high, and received better information. On Grandfather Mountain, the motorcyclists had to sign a waiver due to risk of falling from the steep switchbacks - here - nothing. I guess that's one of the differences between the cultures of the east and west.

When we all finally met up at the bottom, everyone as BUSHED. The lack of sleep, combined with hunger and altitude meant - straight to the closest model and recover with meals and a well deserved sleep. Hell, for all of us, sunday night would be the first sleep in bed since Thursday night - aren't we dedicated to our sport.

We found the Eagle Fire Lodge, compete with Loft, master bed room and pull out couch with a fireplace and hot tub for a romantic getaway - not. Lots of room for our gear. The desk clerk recommended the Ute Bar and Grill, which apparently has been in business since 1938. We took the bikes (no beer for dinner - we had a 12 pack back at the Eagle). This is a no helmet state, so 4 of us said  what the hell, lets go naked (no helmet, but fully clothed). I still cant believe people touring on Harleys, Aspencades, sport bikes and everything in between, in t-shirts, jeans and their hair blowing in the wind. It's OK to take the risk for a short ride through town to get dinner, and in this case, the discomfort of the wind in your unprotected face was less than the pain of pulling the full face helmet over our sunburnt parts.

The Ute looked good - a frontier looking bar with wood interior, a pool table and cluttered with mountain stuff. Place was busy and we were looking forward to a great meal. They had buffalo burgers on tap, and - this is buffalo country, so we were excited about real mountain food.  The first warning came when the Jeff asked the server what she preferred, the buffalo burger, or his favourite, a philly steak. She told him that she hasn't tried the buffalo burger but at other places, she prefers the philly. My altitude oxygen starved brain, that hasn't had a decent sleep since thursday night said "whoa" - this server hasn't tried either the house specialty or philly steak - i guess asking here the chef's favourite meal is out of the question, this must be her first work week. OK, so the warning flags were up. We order 3 buffalo burgers, a philly steak and Josh's chicken fried steak (boy had a craving).

Warning #2: server comes back with a "sorry, kitchen is out of buffalo - OK if we make that regular burgers" (fresh, juicy Angus). I am now thinking, what can the kitchen make that can't be fcuked up and order a salad and a soup. Dave takes the burger offer and Tom orders the Philly. He and I are eyeing each other because the decision to skip the other restaurant option, which was the Swiss Chalet - not the Canadian chicken chain, but a restaurant specializing in organic food, it was starting to look like we made a baaad choice with the Ute.

The salad comes with fresh baked croutons, crispy with a slight butter taste, and I'm thinking, maybe I was wrong. The beverages arrive, diet cokes, a coffee for Dave (he was unable to feed his caffeine addition for the entire day and was getting the shakes) and Josh gets the beer (he was riding bitch on Jeff's bike)

I ordered an unsweetened iced tea and it had a funny taste. One more try, and it dawns on me - the unusual taste is cold coffee. Think, think, think - they made the iced tea in the Bunn coffee machine. Dave has a funny look on his face - "this is the worst coffee I have ever tasted - it doesn't even taste like coffee". He returns the coffee for a coke. Have you ever heard of coffee so bad that you need to return it?

Then comes the food - Tom and I had the soups delivered first. It was a dark broth with stuff floating in it - couldn't fully tell what that stuff was since the broth was so dark. I give it a swirl with the spoon and fear starts setting in, waiting for Tom to take the first sip. He does and hesitates, but he is hungry so he tries some more. His face is not convincing me that this is edible, but I try a sip. The broth is definitely beef, but very strong tasting. Maybe the chef has a unique taste experience for us so I try one of the things floating in the soup. It's a piece of onion and I saw a chunk of carrot, but it was shrivelled - how do you shrivel an carrot in a soup? Finally, the red thing turns out to be a slice of red pepper, only the flesh of the pepper is gone and only the curled skin remains. This soup has been sitting in the soup pot for weeks in order for the ingredients to get in this condition. No wonder the broth tasted so strong. That's it for me but I didn't want to kill the meal for the others so I keep my mouth shut.

They Philly's look OK and they come with commercial, batter dipped fries - can't screw those up. Everyone digs in, has a bite and then the shit bomb explodes.

Josh's chicken fried steak is floating a pool of white sauce, that is probably four, water and salt. He utters and Ughh - can't eat this. Jeff is enjoying the fries and passes me a chunk of steak since I'm not eating my soup - (he takes care of everyone) - but he is commenting that the meat seems cold. Tom has the same experience, and I know from the little soup he ate that he is equally unhappy with with his Philly. Dave crowns them all when he spits his mouthful on the plate. "This burger is still frozen in the middle".

No doubt, the anticipation of a great first meal on the trip was dashed. This wasn't just a bad meal, it was a failure of epic proportions. Even chef Ramsey wouldn't take this place on, and his show made me aware of what goes on in poorly run kitchens. We agree to pay for the meal, not make a fuss and leave. We call the waitress for the check and she realizes something is wrong and then proceeds to tell us that the chef is been a bitch all evening and that other customers have been complaining about their food as well. When she returns, she tells us that the meal is comped and apologizes for the service. I'm just worried that someone has gotten food poisoning since I'm imaging poorly handled food, poor hygiene practices that always thrive in badly run kitchens.

We jump on the bikes to find an edible meal and settle on the Gypsy Brick Oven pizza, where the dough and toppings are freshly made. Finally, a decent meal.

We get back to the Eagle, enjoy some beer and chat it up with our neighbour, who is vacationing with wife and kids. He is third generation steel pedal guitar maker - his granddaddy founded the company, that boasts big name country stars as customers. His kids are 7, 13 and 16, but both he and and his wife looked no older than Josh ..... Hmmm. But, this is what makes travel fun.

Today - no idea where we are going. Pictures will be posted when I can.

Final Day - home for Mother's Day

Today is the final mad dash back home. According to the maps applications, if we follow the right path, we can be home after 8 hours of driving - with stops and border etc. 10 to 11 hours. I make the comment about following the right path - looking at yesterday's ride, I have no idea why the GPS took us to Marion first instead of straight on to 77/221 to 81/64.

The day starts with a constant rain, heavy at time - likely a harbinger of what our day is going to look like. Ah well, we get to test our gear and our will. The rain lets up a bit while we pack, and we overheat preparing the bike so we peel off one layer before hitting the road.

There is no direct route via major highways so we follow the GPS to State College and then follow secondary roads north. At least the drive north is almost a straight line. Almost immediately, the wind chill, which is magnified by evaporative cooling, causes us to pull over and put on the extra layer. At the next stop for gas, (no location because there is no 3G cell signal) Brian is freezing - the water is doing the capillary thing, and creeping up his front from where it pools in the lap of his pants, after rolling down the back side of his tank. That's a recipe for hypothermia - cold, wet, outside and inside. He uses the hand dryer at the gas station to try and get a bit dryer. I put on the heated jacket but don't plug it in. It's no good if I am toasty warm and Brian is near Hypothermia. It's best if I feel his pain so I know his condition when he calls for a stop. Good thing we have the communicators - one of the better safety tools on this trip.

Back on the road. Now it's nothing about enjoying the ride - it's just surviving the wet and cold and getting back to TO (or Burlington). Over a mountain, around some curves - Brian wonders out loud - isn't there a more direct route on a major highway? And the answer is no - 219 and it's variants are the straight line up. 77 is to the west and take us to Erie and add a hour, 81 and 15 to the east take us to Rochester and adds close to 2 hours. Once we get hit Penfield PA, 219 is by far, the straightest line. Unfortunately, I turn on the Spot tracker but forgot to hit the track button, so we don't have a record of our travels.

The cold sets in and it's time for a hot coffee by the time we hit the Penfield and we stop in the only place capable of serving hot food and gas (for the bikes). I pity to poor folk in Penfield because the food served in this location is appalling. I have beef coloured protein sandwich yellow coloured oil product that makes a weak attempt to mimic melted cheese (it comes mixed with the frozen plastic pouch, direct from the factory, so I can't order my meal without it.) Hey, these products are design so that the highly educated, 17 year old skater boy in rural anywhere, with the grossly deformed lower ear lobe, twisted into a gnarly shape because company policy does not allow him to wear his 3/4 inch plugs, can't screw up making the meal. At least we can taste the different coffee dispensers to find the one that does not contain burnt coffee. We are the only people drinking coffee in the joint. Most of the customers favour the mega sized, 1gallon, corn sweetened pops and blue or purple beverages that are emitted from brightly coloured dispensers, covered in posters that shout out for how much fun you'll have drinking this performance beverage.

A bit more time with the hand dryer gets all of the gear in ship shape and we are back on the road. This time, I turn on the electric heater, cause it really is cold. The rain has mostly stopped and we just go in and out of drizzle. It is getting colder though - what's going on? This is almost mid May, and we just left 28C weather one state down? We get a bit of sleet on the way and it's another stop - where we find an outfitter, where Brian can buy some extra fleece layers. Still not perfect but better than status quo. Brian promises to buy an electric jacket when he gets back home. At least we can smell the home stretch so it's press on regardless. When we see the signs to Ellicottville, auto pilot takes over for Brian and he gets a boost of optimism. We stop off at Coffee Culture, order a set of monster Americanos and sit by the open gas flame heater designed to attract skiers in the winter. Works for us as we bask in the infrared heat emitting from the flames. That stuff actually provides deep heating, which when combined with warm coffee, brings us back to life. We meet some harley drivers who ask about our trip and then share tales about great rides. It is amazing how many bikers dream about a trip to the Dragon or Blue Ridge, but then have excuses like "Don't think I want to risk scraping the floor boards on the tight turns" The answer is "just drive as fast as you feel safe, drive only as many miles per day as your body can take - but do it". You've got the bike - do it.

It's even warm in Ellicottville, and ... the sun starts shining out of clearing spots in the cloud cover. This is starting to feel like a homecoming. Heck, even the thermometer on the bike is showing 14C - which is warm compared to the last 5 hours. We get back on the road, and aren't driving for more than 15 minutes and we see the fog ahead, accompanied by a 10 degree drop in temp and wind like crazy. Clearly, we have just hit the cold front of the system that is bringing all this goofy, unseasonable weather. This follows us right into Buffalo, where the clouds are replaced with clear, sunny skies, generated by the high pressure zone behind the front. Brian doesn't like the Erie border crossing so we head to Lewiston. The winds coming off the lake are so powerful, that the gusts push the bikes across half a lane in a split second. We had done so well driving in tight formation - a skill that comes with many miles, but the gusts force us to spread out a lot.

Turns our that every other person in Ontario decided to go to Buffalo for shopping that weekend. I guess to buy Mom that special mall gift so that they can play customs roulette and lie about what price they paid when hitting the border.  The back up of cars queueing up to return through customs is miles long. Screw this, we are not sitting in that, so we do what motorcycles are meant to do - find a thin line of the side of the road and follow the "motorcycle lane" to the front of the line. A few frustrated motorists try to block our path, but we adjust and go into the grassy section - hey, these are "adventure touring" bikes and they are designed for more off road that what that section could throw at us.

Big smiles and a quick chat, answering the the customs agent's questions about bike tripping and we are on the final stretch. Harriet invited me for dinner, but I just want to get home, so Brian and I say our formal good byes and hop on the bikes. It's a bit busy on the QEW with the traditional Canadian traffic pattern - Left lane bumper to bumper at 120km, right lane empty except for a few 80km drivers. It really is that obvious when you get back to Ontario. We say none of that in the US. WAKE UP Canada - learn how to drive.

Roll up the driveway. Julie and J are doing their thing. J gets me a beer (thanks) and I unload the bike. It takes a while to exit bike tour mode and switch to home mode and I wander aimlessly around the house, half dazed, not able to decide what to do next. My hearing is impaired from the massive wind noise in the last part of the drive - need to upgrade to moulded headset so that the communicator works or risk hearing loss. Off to bed early. Tomorrow is Mothers day and we have an action packed agenda.

I'll update the blog with photos and milage statistics. According to the odometer readings on my iphone, we drove 2,450 km averaging just under 410 km per day. To put that into perspective, most of our driving hours were done on roads that posted 45mph top speeds with sections that suggest 25 to 30 mph (for car drivers). You don't drive twisty roads if you're looking to make mileage records.

Great Trip Brian.

A great last day on the Parkway

The morning started with a bright and warm sunrise with clear skys - who could ask for anything more? By the time we had the bikes packed and ready to go, it was 26C under a hot sun. T shirts only under the Klim suits and a bit of schwitz to keep us cool. The road out of Lexington had us on the parkway in no time. In this section, the mountains are more like hills so it was still 22C on top and the roads were a bit straighter, less curvy, but still fun non the less. Long story short, a full day of fun driving where Brian really got into the groove and started feeling good about coming into curves a bit faster, leaning over a bit more in the apex and powering out a bit harder into the next curve or straight. Several times I would look into the rear view to see how he was doing and he scared the crap out of me because he as right on my tail (which motivated me to push harder).

We ended up getting fuel at on the parkway, at the Rockfish Gap Ranger station, which eliminated the need to get off the ridge and into a town. While we were dressing down to grab lunch at the restaurant, we met Bill, a 68 year old retiree from Monroe Louisiana, who was riding his bike to Maine, then via Canada, to the Sault St Marie and back down through Minnesota to lord knows where. He was camping at the park and saw Hans and Franz (that's what the harley boys call Brian and I - Euro bike boys) ride in for gas. He went to his camp site, grabbed his 2012 Triumph 800 Tiger (just like Brian's only with wire wheels), and rode up to meet us. We talked bike while Brian called the office and then invited Bill to lunch. He was a scientist who did research that resulted in the stantin family of drugs - everyone with heart ailments benefits from his research.

This is one of the great aspects of bike touring - you meet people everywhere. I have a wounded warriors sticker on my pannier - after sponsoring an fund raising event for that organization. In many of the every gas station we pull into, someone will notice, make a remark, and that leads to a conversation.  Last night, in Berkeley Springs, a vet approached us, advised us of the storm cells he saw on his iPad radar app, and then invited us to a Vets event that was starting in town.

In other cases, people notice the bikes and want to talk about their bikes and past adventures, their dream on own an adventure bike, it's incredible. The older guys talk about their adventures i.e. "you know you are wet when your boots overflow with water". We have heard stories about fixing Harley clutches at the side of the road, to where we'd find the best roads in America. I love bike touring.

We zipped through the Ridge and then jumped on the Skyline Parkway which took us to Front Royal. By the time we got off the mountain roads, both of us were tired from the curves. The concentration is intense and you get tired. We could see the storm systems off in the distance, but Front Royal as too far to make a mad dash home, so we pressed on regardless. I decided that Cumberland Maryland would put us west of the storms, and by luck, that guess was correct. We went through wet sections, with big lightning storms to the right (I mean big light show), and big rain to the left. It was so dark, Brian thought it was evening at 6pm.

The rain hit us when we got on Hwy 68. That is where Brian's iphone went flying after he accidentally tugged on the charging cable. The magnetic pouch, couldn't hold on and the phone sailed onto the highway. I didn't know this and was up front. When a mirror check say that Brian's dual headlights were no longer following, I went into slow mode which went on for too long, so I pulled over at a rest stop entrance and tried to call him. A futile effort, due to the crushed condition of the phone, which was getting run over by traffic, to add insult to injury. I was starting ramp up for a bad scenario (due to the length of the wait), when I heard a "beep beep" and Brian laughing as he recounted the story - whew relief that the issues was minor.

Cumberland is a sad town, that had great industry in the late 1800's. It just hasn't found it's mojo in this era, unlike so many other towns we have seen, that have vibrant historic downtowns. Ah well, we are just stopping by for a rest and then back on the road.

Today we make the mad dash home, trying to get back for mother's day. It will be a long day with a solid 8 hours of riding, which means up to 12 hours (including rest and gas breaks).

Thursday - Another fun ride...in the wrong direction

We started the day off at a reasonable time and then business got in the way for both of us. While I was finishing emails, Brian was talking to a Harley guy who suggested that we must try Highway 58, AKA the Crooked Road. Originally, we were headed for the Parkway and going north. Now we were heading east. A big part of 58 is regular two lane country highway but once the friendly "Crooked Road" sign points you to a left turn up the mountain - bingo, the personality changes immediately. The road follows several mountain passes and flips between valleys (over the tops, naturally). It's not the tight curve after curve of the Tail of the Dragon, but the turns were just as tight. In some cases, this was more dangerous because the longer straight sections, both up and down hill, let you gather more speed than on the Dragon. Overall, a road worth making a detour in order to enjoy the ride.

We had lunch at the Riverside cafe in Chilhowie VA. What a gem. Food (salads) was great and that VA hospitality is unmatched.

Now, we were no where near the Parkway and were at risk of making zero headway North, so we hit 81 with the goal of blasting as far north as possible Ronoake was the minimum target and we ended up in Lexington VA. Traffic was very heavy with single lane sections for bridge repair. The advantage of being on two wheels is that one can be an a$$hole and sneak up the side. Even the truckers that were blocking the second lane (a good idea from a traffic management perspective couldn't touch us.

The truckers made riding difficult. The speed limit is not observed and they insist on driving at least 75 to 80 mph. With the large number of trucks, and the fact that it's not fun being on a motorcycle behind a truck, getting buffeted like crazy, we were forced to drive at speeds that my tires do not like. The result is my fronts have cupping already (a known Michelin Anakee 2 problem) and will need to be replaced before we go on the Colorado ride. I'll keep them for fall Ontario rides, where the knobbier pattern will be appreciated.

During the ride, one of the trucks I was following hit the brakes and started to weave. I hit the brakes as well and almost instantly, a fresh full tire carcass came bouncing out the back of the trailer. Brian and I had been discussion our planned actions under various emergency scenarios during lunches and dinner (you can never be over prepared on a bike), and this was one of those scenarios. So, I didn't have time to sh!t my pants, because I was standing up and timing a throttle crank to reduce the pressure on the font wheel. Fortunately, the carcass, which cover almost all of the lane was close to the road when I hit it, and the bike sailed over without catching anything. Brian was in formation behind me, and to the right, so he was able to manoeuvre to the side a bit and only touched the edge of the thing. Got a bit of an adrenoline rush - and then on to the next thing. Retreads should be banned and/or, a nano particle marker placed in the tread so that the companies that don't take care of their trucks can be found and fined/sued for the damages they cause. Thanks to rider Dave Phelan for that advice.

We ended up in Lexington VA, a university town that includes the Washington and Lee University and Virginia Military Institute. It's and amazing town with a good economy. We were staying at Hampton Inns, and this city had one so there you go. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the Hampton was part of historic Lexington and Brian and I got the last rooms available - in the historic Col Alto house. Very nice.

I went for a really enjoyable slow ride through town to soak up the history. Up on the hill is the impressive and imposing Virginia Military Institute. The buildings look like a place where a science fiction movie could be filmed - you need to be there to get the feeling (ha, Wikipedia says 6 films were made here including Speilberg's War of the Worlds with Tom Cruise. The grave sites of Stonewall Jackson and Robert E Lee are in the local cemetery. Very interesting place for a small town.

We had dinner at the Southern Restaurant - very fine dining with a really great meal and the normal exceptional southern service.

Today we are off to ride the last section of the Blueridge and Skyline drive, that ends up in Front Royal VA. From there, it's straight up north, but today could be interesting because severe weather is forecast for that area. We'll see how far we get.

Wednesday - a transition day

We had a late start - didn't get on the actual Parkway until almost 1pm. It was a fair climb to get onto the top of the mountains where the road heads north, but once we got on top, we almost immediately ran into heavy fog, so thick, that at time, visibility was down to less than 10 feet. Even the yellow lines were faint at times. Combine this with a stiff wind and cold temperatures and you have an "interesting" ride. When the fog is that thick, one can easily get disoriented and when the wind pushes and pulls you across the road, slow is the only way to go. Then, of course, you worry about on coming cars or worse, the butt head behind you who thinks he's invincible and will run you over before he sees you.

Eventually the fog went away and we were able to make some way, but by 3pm it was time for brunch.  We descended near Marion down a road marked 661. This was interesting. The roads were steep, narrow and very twisty. They lead to a highway that was equally steep and windy, only wider with plenty of truck stops, to cool brakes or pump up air pressure. Unbelievable since there were an incredible number of trucks wailing (I mean fast) up AND down the hills.

Had lunch and decided that we hadn't made enough headway for the day, and weren't going to make up much on the parkway, so combined with the fact that the valley was at 22C, we decided to follow a highway route to Mount Airy. From there, we could easily join the Parkway and enjoy a final day on the scenic route. We did miss a lot of twisty mountain roads with our short cut, but the rest of the road now is windy, scenic and a lot safer, we should be able to make a better average speed today. Plus, the weather today is promising to be the best for the entire trip. We may have rain for the remaining trip due to a low that is parked south of the great lakes and tracking north.

Riding the Tail and Blue Ridge Parkway

What a day. We rode highway 321 out of Pigeon Forge to Townsend and then used the Foothills Parkway to meet up with the tame section of 129. 129 follows a reservoir on a flat road until it turns inland through deals gap. You know you are close to the "The Tail" when you see the signs warning truck drivers not to proceed, with a reminder that this is the last chance to turn around. Only a moron truck driver would continue, and some do every year.

Brian turned on his GoPro at the side of the road and off we went. I was familiar with the road from last time but did not have the turns memorized so i kept the speed down but accelerated aggressively out of the turns. Last year, the bike was shod with Pirelli Scorpions, essentially a street tire and they held well. This year, it was a lot colder and the Michelin Anakee 2's have a more blocky design, so there is less rubber contact, so I wasn't sure how the bike would respond. Good news is I didn't drop. Got a few wiggles on heavy breaking and throwing her sideways, but nothing out of the ordinary. Had a blast, but of course measured the ride my the number of mistakes made that lowered my time (way too many). Traffic was very light so we could have a lot of fun and no cops.

I pulled over to the side at one section and got video of Brian and John powering through a turn.

We had brunch at Deals Gap and relived the finer sections of the ride. Fun, WOW. We were all a bit sore from throwing the bikes around, but John really got a workout slapping that big 700 pound Harley in ways that just weren't meant to be.

John had to return to Atlanta so we decided to ride with him to Highway 19. On the way, we ran into road construction so the GPS gave us a short cut. Good line, except 9 miles in, the asphalt turned into dirt road. No problem for the GS, big problem for the Harley. Time to turn around and head back to the main road. Brian and I turned left to head back to Cherokee and catch the start of the Blue Ridge Parkway and John turned right. Great riding with you John. (John made it back under sunny and warm skys by 4:30)

Brian was getting emails from those watching our route, who commented that we were running in circles. They were right. This was not a fast route home - it was all about the long, fun way home.

The entrance (or exit, depending on your direction) to the Parkway is a long climb that ends in the highest point on the road. It's here, at over 6,000 feet, that the clouds were dumping sleet and hail on us. Good news - it wasn't wet, bad news, makes for fun mountain riding. Outside temps dropped to 4C, so the road did not freeze but it was steaming, which says the cold was a sudden drop.

Fortunately, the road starts dropping and temps warmed up and the sleet eventually went away. Unfortunately, we were in and out of rain all the way. With few cars on the road, we could set up a good cadence of sweeping through the turns. One learns a lot about the technical aspects of riding a bike in those conditions. We had a quick coffee at the Pisgah general store (which serves a still empty campground on the mountain) before dropping into Asheville, for a night in the Aloft Hotel. This is a very european styled hotel in downtown. A very funky overnight stay.

This morning, a fog covered the hill tops, sun came and burned off the fog and then clouds rolled in. There is a weather system north east of us, centred where Hwy 77 and 81 converge. Hopefully the Parkway will keep us from getting that far today, and that the weather clears for tomorrow. We'll play this one as it evolves.

Atlanta to Pigeon Forge

The day started out dry but over case and cool when Brian, John Burns and I hit the road from Marietta GA. Took 575 towards Ellijay, Blue Ridge, Muphy and Marble.

Rain it us as soon as we departed and as the attitude increased, temperatures started dropping. After an hour and a half, we had to stop for coffee to warm up, and to put on extra layers of clothing. Brian and I have the Klim Adventure touring suits so we were protected from the wet, but the wind chill combined with rain evaporation cooling was starting to get to us. At least we had handlebar heaters.

John, with his Harley, barely had a wind screen and was wearing thin rain cover - his face was freezing due to the half dome helmet. Felt sorry for him. His response is "I ride in GA when it's warm. Don't need heaters, full face helmets and stuff. The only time I get on the bike under these conditions is to ride with you guys. It's colder now than any ride this winter". Everyone put on extra layers, and I turned on my Gerbings heated jacket - so warm. That was a worthwhile investment.

Back on the road and right after Blue Ridge, we hit the narrow, twisty mountain roads that make this area famous. Took a little time to get back into the balance and rhythm of navigating the curves on these roads which follow creeks down mountain sides. You have the road, rock and dropoff. There is no margin for error. Drove the same section of 19 as last year's Dragon Trip, organized by my friend Tom Kowalski, with the same crazy amount of tar snakes, and wiggled over them in the rain (again). This time around, it wasn't as terrifying as the first trip. Tom, one views the trip differently the second time, and when leading the ride. This felt like a home coming - real good. Funny enough, we will be passing by ride tomorrow, when Brian and I get on to the Blue Ridge Parkway to take the long way home.

Interesting, as we hit these mountain valleys, the rain went away and the temp soared to 16C - brings a smile to you heart when you take away the pain.

After Cherokee, a quick left and we were heading over the Great Smokey mountains. Highway 441 rises quickly into the mountains providing hairpin turns and spectacular mountain vistas. Too bad you can't soak in the view when you are fighting to stay between the yellow lines and get a speed adrenaline rush. Over they intercom, Brian was yelling "Yeaaaa Baby" .... until we got behind grampa and his motorized wheel chair. I could not believe my eyes. This think was putting up the steep mountains and speeds that approached 15 miles per hour. Ruined a great section of road - good thing we have more than we can eat tomorrow.

At the top, by the North Carolina/ Tennessee border, we stopped to let traffic pass so we could hit it on the way down. Wouldn't you know, Grampa comes putting into the stop as well, so we get a chance to check out his machine. Turns out, it is a 300cc scooter that has training wheels bolted on. I was pissing myself when he was passing the big bikes and doing the "rider wave". He thought he was a biker. I am being cruel, 'cause that will likely be me when I'm 80. I just hope someone designs better training wheels, or, get a real trike based on a Goldwing or Harley chassis.

Trip down was fun. Familiar curves. Had to remember that the 20 mph curves meant second gear. Went into the first set of curves a bit hot but dropped my ass over the side like Tom taught us, and made it through OK, if not a bit wiser. Later I found out that John went in hot as well and ended up crossing the lane into the scenic overview parking area. There are parts of the Parkway that aren't that forgiving. Those roads need to be treated with respect.

Further down, we ran into tourists who were driving slow so they could rubber neck the abundant waterfalls splashing down the mountain side. Had to find a short straight section to safely pass (the idea is to get the bikes home in one piece) so I had a clear run at the 360 curve near Gatlinburg. Brian was adjusting his music when he hit the curve and I suspect he was thankful of the superior handling of his Triumph, which took care of it's wayward pilot.

Quick ride through the Niagara Falls of the Smokeys (Gatlinburg is a tourist town that magically appears, literally, as you exit the forest. One minute you are in a thick deep forest canopy that acts like a tunnel - sort of like a hike in algonquin park ... and then BOOM you are in Niagara Falls at Madame Tousaud.

John booked us into the Riverstone resort - normally a mega luxury 5 star, but since it's off season, we got in at a great price. Bad news, it's a dry county so no booze. Good news - across the street, we found a Texas Grill that just got a liquor licesne. Go figure.

Tomorrow (today) we are off to the tail of the dragon. John is heading to I75 so he can get back to the office and close the month. Brian and I will go left on 19, back to Cherokee and head up into the Blue Ridge Parkway. Hope the weather holds out.

Bike gear on a Bombardier RJ

The helmet and tank bag have no hope in hades of fitting in the overhead bins. Note to self for future rides: book a flight on a 737 or larger craft.

Looks like The massive storm is missing Atlanta so today should be good. Savannah is getting the storm right now so hopefully it clears by tomorrow.

Good thing this flight is not full.

Atlanta to TO, Returning the Beemer

Heading off to Atlanta for a reunion with my Bike. J Burns has been taking care of the bike over the winter and has re-supplied it with a new battery 'n stuff. I arrive at 11 and have the rest of the day to get the bikes (mine and Brian's Tiger 800) ready for the ride home. Hopefully the weather cooperates 'cause there's a huge storm that has been pelting the area with unseasonable rain.

We are planning to head to Savannah on day 1 and then off to Gatlinburg to ride the Tail of the Dragon. The Blue Ridge Skyway will provide riding enjoyment until we tire of it and then hop on 79/77 and close by roads for a leisurely return.

The Spot tracking site is at the following link for those who want to follow the trip:
https://spotwalla.com/tripViewer.php?id=68715184ff8ea1175