Subject: RCR Trip Report
From: Mike Lambert <mkl@world.std.com>
Date: Sat, 10 Jun 2000 21:39:37 -0400 (EDT)

May 31 - June 7, 2000
RCR IX, Renfro Valley, Kentucky

My first Right Coast Ride. I traveled to Kentucky with John
Falvey, Bob MacFarland and Mark Holbrook.

Day 1:
We all meet at 9am, May 31 at the Friendly Restaurant,
Sturbridge MA. Mark leads, taking rt 20 to the Pike to
Westfield. Back roads hence forth and through the Catskills
of NY. We have lunch at a cheap but surprisingly good
Chinese stir fry place, then on into Pennsylvania. Near
Tunkhannock, we pick up rt 87 and continue west to the
Worlds End State Park on rt 154 in Forksville PA for our
first night of camping. We have dinner at a Mom + Pop
restaurant/bar nearby where we have our first sample of
Yuengling beers. The evening is spent around the campsite
picnic table, several Yuengling Lager and Black + Tan beers
in attendance.

Day 2:
A late breakfast/lunch of sandwiches is had on the road at
a gas station somewhere in PA. The rolling hills and farm
land make for a breathtaking backdrop to the excellent
motorcycling roadways. Wide smiles are easy to come by. We
meander west, partially on rt 87, to rt 144 S (a wonderful
road), then southwest along rt 53 to Johnstown and a visit
to the Johnstown Flood National Memorial. Following a late
lunch, we progress south on 96 to the border of Maryland
near Cumberland. rts 35 + 36 deliver us through Maryland
and into West Virginia and rt 93 south to Petersburg.
After grabbing some beers and camp food, the group heads
towards Seneca Rocks in search of a camp site. Bob leads us
down a dirt road (Smoke Hole Road) thinking a camp ground is
only a few miles away. The others are quickly ahead of me as
I am going quite slowly on my new bike. This area is just
amazingly beautiful! Steep, wooded ridges with small farms
nestled in the valleys give a strong sense of departure
from civilization, even though a major town is only 10-20
miles away. After 10 miles of not seeing a campground or
the others, the sun long gone and twilight with it in short
order, I turn back. At the main road, now nearly 10pm, I
believe I have lost my travel mates at least for the
evening and decide to head back into town and get a motel
room, which I score within a few miles at the Homestead
Inn. Thirty minutes later Mark pulls up and says, "Hi
roomy!". The details of this snafu are somewhat hazy: the
others found the campground sixteen miles (!) down that
dirt road, but elected not to stay there. Mark was to look
for me, then meet Bob and John at an intersection that
evening. Failing that, meet the following morning at 9am,
which we did.

Day 3:
Mark and I grab a standard American breakfast at a local
eatery just up the road from the motel and soon meet up
with Bob and John at a general store at the intersection
of rts 28 and 55 in Seneca Rocks WV. After coffee and chat,
we head west. The country here and all the way west to the
border is absolutely stunning. Mark and Bob continue to
lead us along the most wonderful back roads, the most
challenging being "Black Mountain Road", an obscure waaaaay
back road connecting rt 55 with rt 60 in a small old time
resort town. Winding our way south, we pick up and follow
rt 39/55. After lunching at a local diner (the C + S) in
downtown Richwood, we follow 39 west to it's end at rt 60
on the Gauley River, crossing a short time later at Kanawha
Falls. Mark leads us down a narrow dirt road (how does he
find these things?) that hooks up to rt 61 west along the
river's south shore. It is very hot now and we are not happy
sitting in the traffic of Marmet just east of Charleston.
What I think happened next is this: 94 S to 119 S to the
back road with the long, dark, single lane tunnel that Mark
believes to be the "Lost Rail Bed Road" or something like
that. That tunnel caused a couple of "oh shit" exclamations
as there were no lights, reflectors, or markings of any kind
to mark the rock walls, and we were all wearing sunglasses,
except for Mark who had no trouble. Otherwise, the tunnel
was really cool. More wonderful back roads takes us to the
border of Kentucky at Kermit. Country like this in West
Virginia, with it's steep ridges of random orientation is
to me analogous to the Thomas' English Muffin advertisement
highlighting "all the nooks and crannies". Along with the
amazing beauty of the land is the incredible poverty of
those who inhabit it. Well, poor in material possessions,
perhaps, but what a view! From Kermit, we cross the border
into Kentucky and follow rt 40 to Salyersville, then on
along rt 30, both wonderful back roads. I should mention
that all of the roads that we have traveled in PA, WV, and
KY are in excellent condition and are completely devoid of
frost heaves. I now understand why Bill Jennings likes this
area so much for motorcycling. In Jackson KY, we gas up and
have a late dinner at Pizza Hut. We decide to skip
attempting to navigate the rest of rt 30 at night and
follow highways the rest of the way to the Renfro Valley
KOA, arriving at 1am. Gravity and the fatigue of a 16 hour
riding day get the better of me as I drop my bike while
attempting to park on the dirt road of the KOA in front of
a dozen drunken biker scum. For this I am awarded the
"Dolly Parton, jugs dragging in the dirt" award. DoDers can
be cruel bastards. After pleasantries and a beer (or three),
we pitch our tents and crash out.
Three days travel: 1400 miles

Day 4:
A casual day. In the afternoon, I ride solo for a short
loop of about 60 miles on more wonderful back roads in and
around the Daniel Boone National Forest, on the west edge
of which Renfro Valley sits. This is followed by the usual
DoD dinner, awards, laughter, group photo session, bench
racing around the fire, and the consumption of beer. I very
much enjoyed meeting the many DoDers as well as putting
faces to the names I did know. The KOA is situated on top
of a rise next to a small farm. After dinner I take the
opportunity to view the sunset while leaning against a cow
pasture fence, the younger cows milling about, mooing away.
What they were mooing about, I don't know, but they seemed
happy. The weather is excellent and sleeping out in the
tent is a real pleasure, mooing cows and all.

Day 5:
After breakfast at a local restaurant, we ride northeast
along more of those wonderful back roads through the Daniel
Boone National Forest (getting lost on a dirt road, of
course!) and stopping to visit the Natural Bridge, a really
neat piece of natural sculpture on a grand scale. The views
from atop the bridge are just as good if not better than
those from my all time favorite vista, Cathedral Ledge, New
Hampshire. We pitch our tents at the Twin Knobs State Park
on Cave Run Lake in the north end of the national forest
just off rt 801. After dinner (at the Pig-Out BBQ), with
good scotch in hand, I steal a moment of solitude from my
companions to sit on the shore and soak in the waning
twilight. Words can not describe the beauty of this place.
Later, a casual scan of the air waves with my radio reveals
an NBA playoff game: Portland at LA Lakers, game 7, western
conference finals. This signal is very weak, fading in and
out from Indianapolis, but I am glued to the game. My
enjoyment of radio at campsites is as strong as ever.

Day 6:
Back roads are again the plan of the day as we head east
from Moorehead on rt 32 to Louisa on the border of West
Virginia. The combination of tight mountain twisties and
hairpins with sections of open straights and sweepers has
us all grinning from ear to ear. If there is an ideal
motorcycling roadway, Kentucky rt 32 may be it. Over the
border into WV, we pick up rt 34 followed by rt 33 with a
smattering of back roads along the way. At a "T"
intersection in the middle of nowhere we stop, and while
Bob asks one of the locals for directions, John and I
dismount to pet the noses of a young horse and mare. I am
again taken aback by the tranquility of the West Virginia
farmland. I really do need to get out of the city more
often. Later, rain begins to come down as we purchase
campsite supplies in Buckhannon. We ride through the rain
to the Audra State Park and pitch out tents. Mark and I
stand out in the rain for an hour or so enjoying the
elements and our beers while John and Bob choose to hole up
in their tents for the evening.

Day 7:
This day brings more rain. We pack our wet gear and hit the
highway. In Morgantown, Mark leaves the group for Pittsburgh
to continue his vacation, while Bob, discovering his rear
tire is bald, heads off to a BMW dealer. John and I head
east on the interstate. It rains all the way to Wilkes-Barre,
where we obtain shelter at the Comfort Inn campground.

Day 8:
Great weather has come in behind the rain, but John and I
want to get home ASAP and elect to slab the rest of the way
home. Traveling many miles of highway on a motorcycle has
the effect of putting me into a zen like state of mind.
With very little to occupy or distract my thoughts, I find
myself not really thinking at all, and a mental cleansing
of sorts usually results. This trip really should have been
more of a vacation for me. I prepared for the trip mentally
like it was a normal weekend event, which it was, just
farther away. Only now, on the last day, has my mistake
become apparent and the reality of 8 straight days of
motorcycling dawn on me. Doh! An Eventual Master Of The
Obvious, I am. I arrive in Cambridge at 4:45pm, tired,
sore, and already counting the days until my next trip.
Total trip miles: 2560.

Epilogue:
This recounting of events has helped me enjoy the moments
more thoroughly as well as document the journey for future
reference. Overall, I genuinely enjoyed the trip. I have a
new appreciation for the beauty of two southern states and
a respect for the very nice people who inhabit them. It
would be my pleasure to again pay a visit. A great, huge,
hairy, pendulous thanks to my traveling partners for the
good times, kudos to Mark for finding the great roads, and
an extra special thanks to John's wife Cathy (sp?) for
making the wonderful cookies. Yum!

-- Mike Lambert /|\ /\ \ | / ^.^ ___o&o________/ \ \^^______ ` _---_ ' ___________