Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles From: The Edible Dormouse Subject: The Right Coast Ride - a trip report (long) Organization: Yale Home for the Slightly Bewildered Date: Tue, 19 Jul 1994 17:48:29 GMT The RCR III ----------- What can be said that hasn't been said? Who can be thanked that hasn't been thanked? What can be posted that isn't going to be flamed? So, as Jurgen put it, we rode 1600 miles for 5 hours of party. Yeah. Friday ------ Tom came down the previous night (Thursday) to start the tour from New Haven. Jurgen had just arrived from England, jet lagged and knackered but we kept him awake long enough to drink some beer and be sociable. Things got moving around 7.15 the next morning whe we tried to kick start our hung over bodies (oh for an electric start at that hour!), loaded up the bikes and tried to think of a good way through New York. We decided all routes were equally bad and by 8.45 we hit the road, aiming down 95 to Bridgeport (land of the dark mechanics' mills, for any machine shop enthusiasts out there) and across to the Merritt for a bit more leafy stuff than 95 has to offer. This isn't the shortest route but it does avoid the yawning chasm of steel-backed death over the Houstonic where Sikorsky pilots shoot down falling motorcycles as they desperately weave across the bridge. The Merritt itself isn't much better but they've patched it up reasonably. There were a few sections of construction down to one lane but bikes being bikes we were able to lane share our way to the front of the traffic queues pretty quickly. The Merritt led into the Hutchinson River Parkway and then we picked up the Cross County to avoid the Cross Bronx, thence to the New York Thruway and the last part fo the Cross bronx chiarascuro section before the feed roads into the GW which were blocked up like a constipated cow. Again judicious lane sharing got us through but the heat was on - literally. A narrow miss by a woman on the GW who appeared to be looking the wrong way - watching to make sure she didn't hit any high flying boats I guess but otherwise incident free and we took 80W into New Jersey. I80 through NJ is not too bad as large pieces of concrete go - ie it went. Then 287 to 78W to take us into Pennsylvania at Allentown which at least gave some long distance views of wha must have once been countryside until they put an interstate through it :) We took the southern route from Allentown, US222 which goes diagonally and painfully slowly at times through various towns. We grabbed a bite of lunch on the way at a generic Italian place and carried on through Reading to Lancaster and York (funny, I don't remember crossing the Pennines inbetween...) on 3. This all sucked pretty much and so we got onto 116 through Hanover (home of Snyders pretzels) which was a bit better until Tom pulled us over - his ABS computer was flashing warning signs at him for no apparent reason. We pulled up and took a look but there was, frankly, bugger all we could do so we rode on.. 116 turned into 194 taking us to Taneytown and Frederick, MD (another state, another day) and 340 took us briefly across Virginia for about 2 miles before hitting West Vriginia and then back into VA. Weird. West on 7 and Tom again pulled us over, this time for an investigation of the battery as he feared it may be being fried by the heat and pulling the computer down. The battery on the K bike is about as accessible as a the centre of the Pentagon so we got through several bottles of fruit juice while we were there. No sign of any fluid loss but the hard reboot seemed to have cured the ABS problem. And on... We picked up 81 at Winchester and then 66 to Front Royal, the top of Skyline. We stopped for beer and sandwiches and were appalled to find beer selection was worse than at the RCR itself :) We found some Becks eventually which was a reasonable compromise. The campsites in the Shenandoah park were all full so we again got onto 340 to go down the west side of the mountains, passing a KOA (the Macdonalds of campsites, we weren't that desperate. Well Jurgen was but Tom and I weren't) and then fiding a lovely little campsite called Gooney Creek. As we entered the office the woman asked if we were going to get rowdy. Tom explainmed that we were English, which settled the matter until I pointed out that Jurgen was German and we might reenact the second world war if things got too quiet :). We got signed in, tents up next to the creek on somewhat stony ground (what the hell, we have thermarests), lots of wood acquired and the girls next door scoped out. Not much of interest there so we settled into our beers and sandwiches and then gathered round the fire telling silly jokes and singing Flanders and Swann songs. Saturday -------- Bright and early, up with the sun ad all that. We were on the road by 8.45 at least and headed down 340, thinking to get about 60 miles before breakfast. 340 which later became 11 is a great road. Probably it gets trafficed up later in the day but that early it was clear and plenty of overtaking spots anyway. It parallels 81 which takes all the commecial stuff away I guess and it goes down the Shenandoah Valley in some solidly pleasant countryside. We found a diner eventually (quite a search in fact) and really knew we wer in the south (none of this arbitary Mason-Dixon line crap) - biscuits and sausage gravy on the menu. Ahhh! After breakfast we carried on down 11 to Natural Bridge where we stopped to see what the fuss was about. A stone bridge and an $8 entrance fee. Bzzt thank you for not paying, back to the road and the 100+ degree heat. Well, after we'd wnadered round the gift shop for a while and juggled everything we could lay our hands on :) We pulled in for gas shortly afterwards and got under cover moments before the heavens opened and dumped the cistern of the gods upon our heads. great timing... From Natural Bridge we took 11 to just short of Roanoke where we picked up the BRP (after a minor detour down the wrong road, a brief conference in someone's driveway and being attcked by dogs) at mile 106. 170 to go to the exit!. Despite people's warnings about traffic we hardly saw any. Passed maybe half a dozen cars for the first 50 miles? Perhaps we weren't going fast enough :) Both Tom and I were feeling pretty tired so we stopped for a rest and sugar break. It helped a bit so we decided to reduce the hacking from 70mph to 60mph and see if that was a more relaxed pace for the road. It seemed to be and our next hold up was when Jurgen got a wasp in his glove. Only stung him once but it was a doozy. We stopped again for an afternoon snack and coffee where we thought we may have to leave the BRP early for time reasons. Looking at the map we weren't so sure we could find the campsite except from the BRP so figured what the hell, go for it. After stopping for gas around mile 240 we hit the BIG ONE. We were pissed upon mightily. We put on the rain gear but I was contemplating calling the Caost Guard for help it was so bad. Once that cleared (10, 20 miles later) there was the cloud. Visibilty 20 feet at best, pootling along at 25mph with the hazards on as I don't have a fog lamp. Jeez. Eventually we made it to mile marker 276 and followed the instructions to the camp, through more rain. Found Lewis Fork Rd and Mt Zion (despite one misleading instruction about it being the next blacktop road. It isn't, but it is at the end of Lewis) which seemed to be greased. I could feel the back end going all over the place and ended up taking it ridiculously slowly as a result. Finally we got to the site, rolled precariously down the muddy steep entrance Turkey (or is that Tunkey?) Tom laughingly directs bikes down (and this is specifically for bikes? Shit he could at least pave it!) and got gladly onto the grass (squishy but pedictable at least). Immediate welcome by various friendly faces and BEER! Party time, meet old faces, meet new faces, drink lots, eat lots. Doesn't really do it justice does it? Sunday ------ Finally got to meet Turkey Tom - he didn't seem all that rude to me. Pretty gruff over breakfast maybe but not outright rude. Guess I was lucky. As we struck camp an prepped to roll it seemed we were picking up a convoy - a car and a guzzi as well as Dean (who was going to ride all the way to Boston with Tom) joining the now proverbial Tom 'n' Ken. The roads were dry now and there was some fun to be had through the twisties of Mt Zion Rd, although I wasn't confident about following Dean too closely as his rear tyre had to be twice the size of mine... Once we hit US421 things got busy and we started car hopping. I was leading and trying to keep an eye on the pack but it was impossible - the guzzi headlamp was invisible and 3 vehicles back I could not see him at all. The car, of course, couldn't keep up and there was no way for me to keep an eye on it as all cars look the same to me anyway - in my mirror at 100 yds I haven't a hope of knowing which is which. It was pretty clear it wasn't going to work so we pulled off into a convenient layby and decided to talk it through. It ended up that Mark on the Guzzi would stay back with Dan in the car and Tom, Dean and I would hack it back in true Nedod style. That was fine by me - I hate trying to lead too many bikes, but I felt a bit bad for Dan and Mark. Anyhow, 421 was boring but made a little amausing by trying to go 80 when everyone else is doing 60. I got stuck behind a pick-up that pulled out sharply in front of me then proceeded to roll along at 40 or so. I was seriously contemplating blowing it off just before the crest of a hill and then thanked the stars I didn't as we topped the rise - there was a cop car just pulling into a hiding place. Phew. Once it became serious slab we tunred th epace up a little and only one vehicle passed us - a red Lincoln town car. I figured he had to have a radar detector as he was easily doing 90 and thought about following in his wake. Just as well I didn't as we passed him about 10 miles later because he'd been stopped by the local revenue enhancement agents who seemed to be having a word with him abot keeping up his payments. Dean thought it very significant that the only vehicle to have passed us got ticketed in our sight. I thought iit meant we were doing about the right pace... From 421 through Winston-Salem we took US29 up to Danville for lunch. King of the Sea restaurant. Looks OK, let's go for it. Little did we know that the entire population of Danville had just come out of church in their Sunday best and were dining at the King Of The Sea. The looks we got! Especially Dean in his shorts and engineer boots... Everyone there was over 55 years old and sour faced. It was hilarious. The waitress was great - she seemed delighted to have a bunch of bikers to serve rather than dead-for-twenty-years corpses. So we played up to here and teased her. We started moving around between courses and shit like that. She got really confused and managed to leave half our meal off the bill as a result. Tom reckons he damn near scored with her too which is truly remarkable :) We left her a nice tip and a cheery note on the table and I think she'll remember us for a while... Lunch got extended by hot fudge cake and waiting out the rainstorm which hit about half an hour after we got there - again good timing, and then we picked up 29 north again. 29 is a weird road, some lovely countryside, some boring slab. Parts are reasonably twisty at 80mph. In all a very good compromise between getting there and enjoying the ride/view. Definitely some really nice parts. One good point of psychic riding - Tom was leading and suddenly decided to have a map check. So we are hacking up a hill at about 80mph when Tom slows down and starts to indicate right. We all slow down and pull into the gas station and only at the last minute spot the cop who is parked up there. Without the map check we'd have blown by him at DoD nominal+5-10. Ooops. The luck of the British I guess :) 29 rolled out into 15 near DC and we were back on single lane stuff for a while. Not normally bad but the drivers around there all acted like they were either brain dead or on diplomatic plates. Maybe they were on dipsomatic plates..? Anyhow, there were numerous close encounters with horse boxes and trucks which seemed to think that lane changing was their right regardless of what was occupying the lanes. You indicate, check the mirror and change lane. Nothing about 'if there is something there, wait', just follow the instructions inthe drivers' booklet... pillocks. I got seriously frustrated with one guy and made a risky overtake into an oncoming 18 wheeler. I had plenty of room to spare (made the overtake with about 10yds of so of gap and maybe 15 deg of throttle twist left) and nipped in ahead of the car at my peak velocity of about 90mph. I started to roll the speed off but too late - there was a cop car *right behind* the truck. We must have passed at a relative velocity of 140mph, most of which was mine. He didn't seem to mind though and I got away with it. Around 7pm we rolled across the border into Maryland (across the Susquehanna) and headed towards a campground marked on the map. We thought we could get some beer on the way but Maryland gas stations don't carry it. We found some subs for dinner but no beer. We figured a hack in to Frederick on the slab would be our best bet as closing time closed in and we managed to find a shop with not only beer but a decent selction. 3 six packs later we moseyed on towards a different camp ground in a state park. Duly found (well navvied by Dean) it turned out to be pretty quiet and friendly and we settled into the beer which disappeared remarkably quickly. Monday ------ According to messrs Rand and McNally the road the campsite was on, MD17 rolled into && which we could take east to Thurmont and pick up US15 from there - a bit of twisty stuff to wake us up. 17 turned out to be very very twisty and a joy to ride. Unfortunately it started to get a bit gravelly after 8 miles or so - I was watching little patches of dust fly up from under Dean's and Tom's rear tyres. After 10 miles the road stopped dead and split into two gravel tracks, no indication of where to go or which was rte 17. Neither was 77, I knew that much as I had ridden on 77 before. Shit. So we turned round and did it all again in reverse which was just as much fun :). Back on the slab intowards Frederick to find breakfast and we stopped at a place called Big Boys (I think...). Pity Caroline wasn't there to check them out . The place had an 'all you can eat breakfast' for $4 and as we walked in I could hear the manager scream and throw himself off the roof at the sight of Tom and Dean. Sorry guys. We let 15 carry us up back into PA and then took slab through the roadworks around Harrisburg and east, sticking to the southern route (I70). We passed a lot of police cars on the slab but they all seemed to have cardboard cut out policemen in them. Not much revenue enhancement there...but it makes a change to see such thin cops. maybe they just didn't have enough doughnuts for breakfast? Only one incident of note, and that was on 15 - as I came haring down a hill at about 80mph I saw a guy crossing the road about 200yds ahead of me. No problem I thought, he has to be crazy to cross a busy dual carriageway with lunatics doing crazy speeds but he'll be long gone by the time I reach him. Of course I hadn't figured the hat factor...he dropped hi hat and then turned round to go back and get it, by which point I was hard on the brakes and wishing I had 22mm cannon attached to the bike. Talk about road hazards... We took the slab from Allentown up to the Delaware water gap, a weird kind of road with no toll but no commercial vehicles. Almost like a parkway but not quite. Very scenic but a 45mph limit and single lane each way so diffiuclt to go fast. Go fast we did and there were some very dubious overtaking moments as most of the thing is double yellow. Trying to catch Tom and Dean I chanced an overtake on one such double yellow with a left hand bend ahead - I could see far enough to know I could get through so it was safe, just illegal. Unfortunately the next car around the bend was a police car and I found myself headed towards him at about 85mph on the wrong side of the road. Guilty as charged really. I finished my overtake and checked my mirrors. He braked but didn't flash the sirens or turn around so I rode on like nothing had happened and thanked whatever gods were looking out for me. Lucky *again*. From the DWG we just wandered onto I84 to go north of Manhattan, splitting up just over the Newburgh bridge as Tom and Dean went norht and Jurgen and I carried on into Ct, thence to 34 via the I84 crappy road surface of death and some big hold up where a woman had broken down inthe middle lane and just sat there. Judicious lane splitting got me through to just behind a state trooper who had come to help. 34 made a pleasant break from I roads, following down the Housatonic, but th elast ten miles are just urban sprawl and signals. Got home with 1570 odd miles on the clock and realised as I had nothing for supper I'd have to unload the bags and make the 6 mile round trip to Stop and Shop - no rest for the wicked ey. -- ------------------------------------------------------------------- zetie@minerva.cis.yale.edu and zetie@vax.ox.ac.uk www home page: "http://www.cis.yale.edu/~zetie/zetie.html" browse! There ain't no such thing as fact, just opinion. This is mine.