The day starts of like any other - mad rush to get everything ready to drive the bikes to Nashville:
- Tom picks up the BMW from the dealer after the 40,000 Km checkup - bike is OK and ready to roll.
- Josh needs to finish school - gets out early.
- Mike takes his meetings from the home office.
- Ryan is hanging ..... doing chores and helping Dad get ready.
- Jeff has a full slate of customers and need to replace the stuck sink in his work.
Loading the bikes starts at 3PM (earlier actually, if you count Tom's effort to load the Concours and 800GS in New Market). We are done just before dark and Josh treats us to meat sandwiches from European meats - Yumm (no fries).
 |
| Bikes packed and ready to go |
We eventually get on the road. Jeff has been up with almost no sleep, so he gets the back. Tom starts driving. Traffic is hell - everyone wants to get out of TO for May two-four. We decide to cross into the US at Detroit since the Niagara crossings are flooded with people heading to Buffalo. Google helped as well by informing us that we can save an hour on that route.
As we get close to the border, the perilous Sollak motorcycle gang determine that dinner should be had at Slows, a BBQ joint right across the border, in Detroit. It's raining rats and mice (we like that better than cats and dogs) when we hit the border. Great news, the barriers are set up in such a way that it's impossible to manoeuvre the truck and trailer through the maze. The border agents inform us that the formable looking barriers are actually empty plastic shells and we can move them at will. Generated a bit of excitement with the guys who rip cars apart when they aren't promptly informed by their compatriot, but after a few rain soaked explanations, one ventures into the rain and helps us open a path.
Slows is literally around the corner, in the heart of burnt out Detroit. We are passing boarded up buildings as we seek a safe place to part the expensive bikes on the open trailer. Tom and I are exchanging glances that say, "what are we doing here??" but Jeff, Josh and Ryan have locked-in on a smoked meat eating orgy and are able to overlook all obstacles. We stop for a second to ponder a strategy that keeps our loved ones (the bike kind) in our eyesight while we eat. It's a weird scene, burned out buildings but the streets adjacent to two restaurants are lined with cars.
Then it gets weirder. Out of the blue, this horn rimmed glasses, old black man, with a salt and pepper afro materializes and tell us we have arrived. The food is great but there is no way he would park here. He points across the street and advises us that they have security parking, and as he is rambling about "they don't got to many guns no more", we are thinking out of sight is not good here. The wild man earns a fiver for his favours and we move on.
The restaurant pointed us to a "secure" parking lot across the street. Secure means a guy with Security stencilled on a baseball cap, sleeping in an ancient battle scarred Toyota. The rate is $3 but he eyes the trailer and informs us, "that will be extra" but is unable to specify the amount. Is this commerce or extortion - doesn't make us feel better, and then .... the only place to park truck and trailer, is at the back of the lot, beside a burned out building. I volunteer to stay and augment Mr. Security. Tom is thinking the same thing and says he will stay on guard, then Ryan offers to become the sacrificial lamb saying he has eaten there before so we should go. Just bring me back a mac and cheese. We finally agree to this suboptimal condition and head across the street, leaving Ryan with enough space that he could dash the truck from the lot and avoid the expensive jaguar blocking his path.
Just as we get in front of the restaurant, a car bolts from the parking spot right out in front and we decide to squeeze the truck into the remaining space, even if part of the truck projects into the intersection. Poof, Mr horn rimmed wild man materializes to help us hold the parking spot. He rambles on that this spot is so much better than that last blah blah blah. Anything to earn another tip. Jeff finally gives him a few bucks an tells him to bugger off. He looks at the hand out and complains that "you can do better than that. Detroit is a tough town.
The meal is legendary and our spirits lift with the great food. They serve way more food than normal people can eat so we back next day's snack and head out. The drive is OK, bit of rain. We drive all night, everyone takes a shift. Josh stands out taking the worst shift.
We get to the storage location and busily off load the bikes. 20 minutes and we are ready to park the truck. Cipi and Dave arrive to greet us and share their journey stories while we pack the gear and suit up. The skys are grey, it's cold and rain is on the radar when we finally hit the road. We get to the entrance of the park and take the traditional group shot. The area is absolutely beautiful. Lush green forest, hills and valleys. There's a bit of cloud/fog wafting between hills in the distance, like smoke from a fire. This would be even more vibrant in full sun. In the distance, we see a long bridge over a river that cuts a thin straight line across the soft tree profile, an artful combination. Crossing the bridge rewards us with a spectacular view of the Tennessee river.
We all are getting our riding legs and the fast boys, Cipi, Dave, Tom and Josh take off along the winding roads. It's curve after curve and Jeff and I hang back to help Ryan build skills. I'm in front, keeping a pace that doesn't suck Ryan to dangerous speeds in the curves. Jeff is behind, providing advice over the blue tooth Sena communicators.
It starts to rain. We switch into appropriate gear (my stuff is ready all the time). Good news is the gear keeps us dry, but it's COLD. Evaporation off the suits makes the speed even colder. The visor fogging detracts from enjoying the ride and after a few hours, the lack of sleep, plus growing hypothermia detracts ability to concentrate. We finally pull over in a rest stop (in the rain) to recover, grab a snack and warm up.
More to come. we spend the evening in Tupelo Mississipi, site of a recent massive Tornedo and our hotel is 4 blocks from the path of destruction. Pics coming soon as well.
May 19: We are in Alexandria LA. It's warm - got up to 30C, what a contrast.
Continuing Day 1:
The ride starts off in the Kentucky hills on wonderfully winding roads that follow the hill contours but as we get closer to the grand Mississippi, the river's influence starts to show flatter and flatter hills so the curves lengthen out and it's all about enjoying the trees and near empty road. The radar app on my iPhone shows a long stretch of rain that will keep us wet most of the day, reaching to just north of Tupelo, our intended destination.
The fast riders pull over at a rest stop that is nestled beside a small brook and clearing in the trees. By the time park the bikes and remove our helmets ... it stops raining. We are all cold. Dave's position on the bike lets the slip stream off his bike push water up under his jacket via the crotch of his pants. He looks like he pee'd himself and of course water and wind make you cold. I am wearing a golf shirt, a thin columbia sun shirt and my waterproof layer. My stuff is dry (except the cuffs and a tiny bit of the collar) but evaporation has cooled me to the start of hypothermia. We did not pack for cold weather, so I put on the evaporation vest (dry) and a long sleeve t-shirt (synthetic). The vest is tight and immediately starts saving core temp. We snack out on carbs (an old scouting trip from winter camping) and the furnaces start to crank up so by the time we continue on the road, we are warm.
The non stop drive to Nashville, plus lack of quality sleep is starting wear on us and we are tired. Tired and cold are a dangerous combination but we do want to get to Tupelo. The group generally slows down to compensate. The rain pizzles on and off but more off to the point that we see some blue patches in the dark cloud over. The temperature starts to rise and when the thermometer announces the welcomed 16C, we all feel better. That is the temp when everything gets OK. We start to dry out (especially the gloves) and are feeling good.
Just outside of Tupelo, we start noticing downed trees, then trees stripped of all branches, bark and chopped off, 20 feet from the ground. This is tornado country. It's full sun and 21C when we arrive at the Trace museum on the outskirts of Tupelo. We run into a group of Goldwing riders who recommend our dinner location. Apparently, the best restaurant in Tupelo got blown away in the tornados that devastated the town 2 weeks ago. So, Lost Pizza it is.
This is our first real recovery break, while the guys catch a movie about the Trace, I whip out the phone to call Julie. It's her birthday and in the hectic start of the day, I forgot to call her. She and our kids are just getting ready for dinner at our favourite local restaurant, we have a wonderful chat. In spite of being abandoned by her husband, Julie is happy to spend her day with the kids.
The Black Diamond Sollak riders call their crew chief, Kathleen and wish her all the best for her birthday. How's that for coincidence. Kathleen is off to Europe. Heck if the boys want to play on their bikes, Kathleen can out play them on game. Check-mate.
The part of town on the route to our Best Western are perfectly normal. It's a normal sub urban neighbourhood with big box stores, Best Buy, Walmart, Lowes. Lost Pizza is just across the highway ... The scene on the other side of the bridge is what you see on TV when CNN puts reporters on the scene after a disaster. We are greeted by debris piled everywhere, in the parking lots of buildings ripped in half by the storm. Roofs are torn off, walls missing, exposed beams and rooms. Until you see it yourself, it's impossible to imagine. Clearly the insurance process is working here. Entire parking lots of cars, that look like someone shot at them with a machine gun are sitting there will smashed windows, crushed roofs, bent doors. Clearly the vortex did not suck the vehicles into the sky, rather it pelted them with debris. Don't think anyone could survive that if they weren't in a basement.
Dinner is great. The storm must have hopped over the building because everything to the left and right is destroyed. Behind the building is a residential area that has been literally wiped out. I saw the real time weather channel coverage of the storm that did this damage while in Atlanta at the annual waste conference. The forecasters (a Phd and talking head) had high quality radar and high performance computers. They could see the wind shear that predicts the forming of a tornado and then they could zoom in to see the actual storm. The radar was so accurate that it show debris in the air (you need to be an expert to interpret the computer generated image). I distinctly remember watching the section where they announced the storm approaching Tupelo, and then touching down. It was one of tens of tornados that evening.
I will send pics when the guys wake up.
Slows is literally around the corner, in the heart of burnt out Detroit. We are passing boarded up buildings as we seek a safe place to part the expensive bikes on the open trailer. Tom and I are exchanging glances that say, "what are we doing here??" but Jeff, Josh and Ryan have locked-in on a smoked meat eating orgy and are able to overlook all obstacles. We stop for a second to ponder a strategy that keeps our loved ones (the bike kind) in our eyesight while we eat. It's a weird scene, burned out buildings but the streets adjacent to two restaurants are lined with cars.
Then it gets weirder. Out of the blue, this horn rimmed glasses, old black man, with a salt and pepper afro materializes and tell us we have arrived. The food is great but there is no way he would park here. He points across the street and advises us that they have security parking, and as he is rambling about "they don't got to many guns no more", we are thinking out of sight is not good here. The wild man earns a fiver for his favours and we move on.
The restaurant pointed us to a "secure" parking lot across the street. Secure means a guy with Security stencilled on a baseball cap, sleeping in an ancient battle scarred Toyota. The rate is $3 but he eyes the trailer and informs us, "that will be extra" but is unable to specify the amount. Is this commerce or extortion - doesn't make us feel better, and then .... the only place to park truck and trailer, is at the back of the lot, beside a burned out building. I volunteer to stay and augment Mr. Security. Tom is thinking the same thing and says he will stay on guard, then Ryan offers to become the sacrificial lamb saying he has eaten there before so we should go. Just bring me back a mac and cheese. We finally agree to this suboptimal condition and head across the street, leaving Ryan with enough space that he could dash the truck from the lot and avoid the expensive jaguar blocking his path.
Just as we get in front of the restaurant, a car bolts from the parking spot right out in front and we decide to squeeze the truck into the remaining space, even if part of the truck projects into the intersection. Poof, Mr horn rimmed wild man materializes to help us hold the parking spot. He rambles on that this spot is so much better than that last blah blah blah. Anything to earn another tip. Jeff finally gives him a few bucks an tells him to bugger off. He looks at the hand out and complains that "you can do better than that. Detroit is a tough town.
The meal is legendary and our spirits lift with the great food. They serve way more food than normal people can eat so we back next day's snack and head out. The drive is OK, bit of rain. We drive all night, everyone takes a shift. Josh stands out taking the worst shift.
We get to the storage location and busily off load the bikes. 20 minutes and we are ready to park the truck. Cipi and Dave arrive to greet us and share their journey stories while we pack the gear and suit up. The skys are grey, it's cold and rain is on the radar when we finally hit the road. We get to the entrance of the park and take the traditional group shot. The area is absolutely beautiful. Lush green forest, hills and valleys. There's a bit of cloud/fog wafting between hills in the distance, like smoke from a fire. This would be even more vibrant in full sun. In the distance, we see a long bridge over a river that cuts a thin straight line across the soft tree profile, an artful combination. Crossing the bridge rewards us with a spectacular view of the Tennessee river.
 |
| Start of the Trace. Note Dave's helmet and gloves |
We all are getting our riding legs and the fast boys, Cipi, Dave, Tom and Josh take off along the winding roads. It's curve after curve and Jeff and I hang back to help Ryan build skills. I'm in front, keeping a pace that doesn't suck Ryan to dangerous speeds in the curves. Jeff is behind, providing advice over the blue tooth Sena communicators.
It starts to rain. We switch into appropriate gear (my stuff is ready all the time). Good news is the gear keeps us dry, but it's COLD. Evaporation off the suits makes the speed even colder. The visor fogging detracts from enjoying the ride and after a few hours, the lack of sleep, plus growing hypothermia detracts ability to concentrate. We finally pull over in a rest stop (in the rain) to recover, grab a snack and warm up.
More to come. we spend the evening in Tupelo Mississipi, site of a recent massive Tornedo and our hotel is 4 blocks from the path of destruction. Pics coming soon as well.
May 19: We are in Alexandria LA. It's warm - got up to 30C, what a contrast.
Continuing Day 1:
The ride starts off in the Kentucky hills on wonderfully winding roads that follow the hill contours but as we get closer to the grand Mississippi, the river's influence starts to show flatter and flatter hills so the curves lengthen out and it's all about enjoying the trees and near empty road. The radar app on my iPhone shows a long stretch of rain that will keep us wet most of the day, reaching to just north of Tupelo, our intended destination.
The fast riders pull over at a rest stop that is nestled beside a small brook and clearing in the trees. By the time park the bikes and remove our helmets ... it stops raining. We are all cold. Dave's position on the bike lets the slip stream off his bike push water up under his jacket via the crotch of his pants. He looks like he pee'd himself and of course water and wind make you cold. I am wearing a golf shirt, a thin columbia sun shirt and my waterproof layer. My stuff is dry (except the cuffs and a tiny bit of the collar) but evaporation has cooled me to the start of hypothermia. We did not pack for cold weather, so I put on the evaporation vest (dry) and a long sleeve t-shirt (synthetic). The vest is tight and immediately starts saving core temp. We snack out on carbs (an old scouting trip from winter camping) and the furnaces start to crank up so by the time we continue on the road, we are warm.
The non stop drive to Nashville, plus lack of quality sleep is starting wear on us and we are tired. Tired and cold are a dangerous combination but we do want to get to Tupelo. The group generally slows down to compensate. The rain pizzles on and off but more off to the point that we see some blue patches in the dark cloud over. The temperature starts to rise and when the thermometer announces the welcomed 16C, we all feel better. That is the temp when everything gets OK. We start to dry out (especially the gloves) and are feeling good.
Just outside of Tupelo, we start noticing downed trees, then trees stripped of all branches, bark and chopped off, 20 feet from the ground. This is tornado country. It's full sun and 21C when we arrive at the Trace museum on the outskirts of Tupelo. We run into a group of Goldwing riders who recommend our dinner location. Apparently, the best restaurant in Tupelo got blown away in the tornados that devastated the town 2 weeks ago. So, Lost Pizza it is.
This is our first real recovery break, while the guys catch a movie about the Trace, I whip out the phone to call Julie. It's her birthday and in the hectic start of the day, I forgot to call her. She and our kids are just getting ready for dinner at our favourite local restaurant, we have a wonderful chat. In spite of being abandoned by her husband, Julie is happy to spend her day with the kids.
The Black Diamond Sollak riders call their crew chief, Kathleen and wish her all the best for her birthday. How's that for coincidence. Kathleen is off to Europe. Heck if the boys want to play on their bikes, Kathleen can out play them on game. Check-mate.
The part of town on the route to our Best Western are perfectly normal. It's a normal sub urban neighbourhood with big box stores, Best Buy, Walmart, Lowes. Lost Pizza is just across the highway ... The scene on the other side of the bridge is what you see on TV when CNN puts reporters on the scene after a disaster. We are greeted by debris piled everywhere, in the parking lots of buildings ripped in half by the storm. Roofs are torn off, walls missing, exposed beams and rooms. Until you see it yourself, it's impossible to imagine. Clearly the insurance process is working here. Entire parking lots of cars, that look like someone shot at them with a machine gun are sitting there will smashed windows, crushed roofs, bent doors. Clearly the vortex did not suck the vehicles into the sky, rather it pelted them with debris. Don't think anyone could survive that if they weren't in a basement.
Dinner is great. The storm must have hopped over the building because everything to the left and right is destroyed. Behind the building is a residential area that has been literally wiped out. I saw the real time weather channel coverage of the storm that did this damage while in Atlanta at the annual waste conference. The forecasters (a Phd and talking head) had high quality radar and high performance computers. They could see the wind shear that predicts the forming of a tornado and then they could zoom in to see the actual storm. The radar was so accurate that it show debris in the air (you need to be an expert to interpret the computer generated image). I distinctly remember watching the section where they announced the storm approaching Tupelo, and then touching down. It was one of tens of tornados that evening.
I will send pics when the guys wake up.
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