Ride Report, 05-18-08. British/European Classic Day at Germantown, MD.
Eight thirty AM on Sunday was sunny and warming up, although the air was still fairly cool as I pulled into the Powersports East parking lot. There were 11 bikes and 12 people there, ready to ride. One observer on a Hinkley Triumph showed up on his way home from the job (midnight shift). Said he wanted to say hi and see what bikes were about, would love to ride with us, but needed to go home and get some sleep. The 11th rider pulled in on his EX500 just as we were leaving. In addition, there were Bryan and Ryan on CBR 600’s, Paul on his very quick Vulcan, a regular rider on a Suzuki 1100, and a reappearance by a smooth adventure tourer from Jersey on one very trick late model BMW ‘Supermoto’ type bike. If I wasn’t so feeble minded, I would surely remember everyone’s names. For some reason, crazy details (like: the BMW rider owns SIX complete wheel/tire assemblies for his bike) stick in my brain, but not many names. I was on my Norton Commando (we were going to a British/ Euro gathering after all) and there were a handful of new people on large, late model cruisers. So….as usual, we had a very broad range of bikes and riders present. Things got slightly interesting within the first ¼ mile, as we crossed route 40 and turned left on Schoolbell Rd, which is, incredibly, STILL under construction. Hoping not to lead the entire group into a deadend or huge mudhole, I drove right past the ‘closed road’ sign and we picked our way through ½ mile of construction dirt before emerging near route 72.
A quick right/left zig-zag brought us to the 95 south ramp at 273, and after paying a whopping $4.00 toll, we regrouped while cruising along at just over the limit, making a beeline for the Susquehanna River. Through Port Deposit, Md, across the Connowingo Dam and then turning west on a series of open back roads, we stopped every 40 or 50 miles to rest, pee, gas up and regroup, while the skies progressively darkened. The weather remained threatening all morning, but we dodged any rain, encountering, at worst, roads that were slightly wet, making traction ‘iffy’. and indicating that we had only just avoided a real rainfall. It must be said that at a fairly respectable pace, everyone rode really well, and this group experienced none of the splintering that usually occurs. We rode quickly and safely, each rider watching the bike behind him to make sure the group stayed together. Well done, one and all! We arrived at Butler’s Orchard just before noon. Rev-o-Lee is at 12 noon. Everyone is encouraged by the master of ceremonies to start their engine and rev it up real loud for a full minute. The turnout was fairly light because of the threat of rain, and not everyone participated, so the resulting cacaphony was somewhat under-whelming. We cruised the grounds for and hour and a half. On a whim, I entered my poor old tired Norton in the ‘Concours’ competition. I ate a burger. The consistency of the food at these events is a sure thing. The skies stayed dark, and before long, it began to sprinkle. There were some very interesting bikes and women to look at. OK, mostly bikes. I saw some incredible Vincents, gorgeous BMW sidecar outfits, a great trials riding demonstration by the Potomac Vintage Trials Club, and around 20 vendors selling repro and New Old Stock bits, along with the usual mountains of junk. Well, junk to me perhaps, but if you have been looking for the last 6 years for a wrist pin for a 45 year old engine, even the rusty bits can be very interesting. The cruiser guys left very early, perhaps to beat the rain, or maybe they just wanted a different route home. We pulled on our rain gear (those that had some) and departed in a moderate rain that lasted about 45 minutes. After that we packed it all away again, and the sun actually came out for a good long while. Enough, even, to dry the riders who had no rain gear (or even gloves in some cases….muy macho, no? Muy loco, talbais!) We made out way due north, through Hanover, PA and eventually picked up one of my favorite roads: route 851. This is really curvaceous with light traffic that allows everyone to travel at their own best pace. We began to catch up to some rain showers, as evidenced by water on the road, as we approached Delta, PA, where we stopped for a huge dinner at 5 o’clock, paid for by Powersports East. While we sat in the diner, a humongous storm hit, and the sheets of water made an impressive racket against the roof. It was a regular Biblical downpour, and luckily for us, it stopped before we left. The sun came out again, and began to dry the saturated roadways. We made our way along the Connowingo reservoir on route 623, another favorite, then turned north and east on route one, which carried everyone towards home. I got back to Kennett Square before 7 PM, a little wet, a little sore and tired, but very happy.
Ride Report, May 1-4, ’08 Black Mountain Recreation Park, Harlan County, Kentucky
WOW! That was some weekend. I knew that the distance and the expense of the 4 day trip, as well as the unknown quality of the riding area would keep most people away. Still, 5 hard core riders reserved spots and made the 10 hour trek to Kentucky’s poorest and highest ( referring to altitude) county. The folks that live there have had few economic opportunities since the coal industry went bust, so they have opened the region to ATV and dirt bike riders. The trails are marked and mapped out, well groomed, and FREE. That’s right, no fee to ride or park, they just want us to go there and spend some money. There are about 80 or 90 miles of marked trail, and they include the highest point in the state, at over 4400 feet. That is way up in the sky baby, and the trails climb and climb: lots of steep stuff with hairpins and spectacular scenery. So we decided to go and spend some money, but not too much. To control expenses, Bob, Doug and I loaded our machines on a trailer and shared gas in Doug’s pick up truck. Bob brought his Raptor, I was on my XR650R, and Doug rode his KTM 450 dirt bike. Jim and Karl met us on the way, with 2 humongous CanAm ATV’s in their pick-up, plus a Polaris for a spare. We made this a 4 day trip so we could relax and drive down Thursday, ride as much as we want on Friday and Saturday, then rest Saturday night and return Sunday. The trip took 10 hours and 15 minutes going down, and 11 hours coming back, due to traffic and a more relaxed pace. To further control expenses, we three shared one room, so it cost each person $30 per night, which included a decent breakfast. Conditions were near perfect Friday, with mild temperatures, and minimal dust due to a bit of rain the night before. We started out slowly, getting our bearings and learning how to use the map. Once we had faith in the map and trail marking system, we picked up the pace, riding as fast as we safely could, usually turning up the mountain when faced with a choice. Eventually, we would stop and check the map to figure out where we were. We rode right into town when we became hungry and needed some gas, the police just waved. Every one was very friendly, although it was a little difficult to understand what people were saying until our ears got dialed into the accent. At some points we left the trail system and just followed various unmarked trails until hitting a road, then followed the road back to the marked system. The terrain was loamy, rocky only in spots. Traction was good and we covered a bit over 50 miles. After returning to the motel, we showered, then walked about a mile to a Sizzling Steak House for a mad chow down, courtesy of Powersports East. Back at the motel, some of us took advantage of the heated indoor pool and Sauna, others hit the hay early. We met at 7:30 for breakfast on Saturday, and since the trail head is only 8 miles from the motel, we got an early start: a good thing, as rain was forecast for the afternoon. We saw several groups of Jeeps, and more riders than the day before, as one would expect for a Saturday, but it never felt at all crowded. We covered most of the remaining marked trails, but there are an unlimited number of unmarked trails. Some local riders even organized guided tours to explore the regions beyond the marked trails. Around midday, we encountered a few sprinkles, enough to make some spots a little bit muddy. I was on worn out knobbies and basically got my butt whooped. The tires filled up with the slick, sticky mud, and I found myself going down hill with the rear wheel spinning as if on ice. I also fell a few times, without injury. Doug noticed that his countershaft sprocket had shed all 12 of its teeth, and Bob had lost his skid plate when 3 of the 4 bolts broke off. To be honest, I was thankful for these minor mechanical problems, since it gave us a good excuse to stop riding earlier than usual. Jim and Karl kept on, as they were loving every minute of it with 4 wheel drive and winches. Did I mention that I had to winch the XR once or twice? You know, that’s why I LOVE riding with guys that have winches. We decided to load up and do a little exploring by truck. Well actually, we had to drive 30 miles to get a beer, since Harlan County is DRY, as in prohibition. This enabled us to get our bearings, and to check out some of the mountain roads. They were nearly as interesting as the trails, and we decided we had to get there on street bikes sometime soon.
After a good night’s rest, we hit the road north, stopping near Front Royal for country grilled chicken and barbeque, and for a quick visit with some old friends. I was home by 8 PM. Compared to Hatfield-McCoy, Black Mountain is more primitive. The mountains are taller and the scenery is more spectacular. There is no single track, and only 80 or 90 miles of official trail, but unmarked trails are all around and basically unlimited. It’s about 11/2 hours further, but costs $35 less per day since there is no fee. After riding all the trails at Hatfield over the last 8 years, for a total of 16 or 20 trips, the change felt good. I think we will go back to Harlan County at least once each year, and I highly recommend that you give it a try. This place was made for ATV riding!
Ride Report: George Washington National Forest 4/12/08 , Saturday’s weather was looking mighty fine as we left the dealership on time at 7 AM. We had a small but very assorted group: Joel, Miles and John on motorcycles, Bob and Robin on their Razor side-by-side, and Danielle on her big utility quad. With only three trucks, we made good time, and after one long rest stop, arrived on site at the top of Tasker’s Gap right at 11 AM. Upon entering the parking area, we noticed signs advising that riders must now purchase a daily use permit…something new. On the plus side, it’s only $5 for the day, and the money is used to maintain the trails. Since the penalty for riding without the permit is $75, we thought it might be a good idea to comply with the new regulation, so I rode my street legal XR650R 4 miles down the mountain to buy permits in Edinburg at a gas station. I got back to the trucks in about 20 minutes and waited for the rest of the group to complete a short warm up loop. We put the little colored bands on our wrists just before the Sheriff took a lap through the parking area. Talk about good timing. John’s main bike was down for maintenance and he was riding a little used spare which was running poorly, so we did a quick carb overhaul before setting out on our first loop. George Washington National Forest is the kind of place where you have to moderate your pace. If you get going real fast, either you crash, or you bust up your bike. The reason is the rocks. This is the rockiest part of the Appalachian Ridge, and it can certainly take a toll on your body and equipment. On the first loop, there were multiple tip overs from the 2 wheelers, and the UTV and ATV were making noises that sounded like bullets ricocheting off military armor at the D Day beach landing. We made it back to the trucks after a few hours, somewhat worse for wear. After a brief recovery period, and some food, we headed out on a 7 mile long jeep road, hoping for slightly smoother conditions. We did a little better on this second loop, although Bob got enthusiastic on the Razor, resulting in a bent a-arm and torn off skid plate. Score? Rocks 2, riders 0. At the end of this loop, we decided to chance riding on the off limits dirt road for ½ mile so as to take in the famous view of the “7 bends of the Shenandoah River” from the top of a fire tower. Miles left his helmet on the seat of his bike while we hiked up there for the view, and the wind blew it off. Naturally, it rolled down the side of the mountain, scattering gloves and goggles and came to rest at the bottom of a very deep ravine, barely in sight. Gravity sucks. Miles had to climb down to get it back, and had a wee bit of trouble scrambling back up. Back on the legal trails, we ran into our Sheriff friend again, who reminded us to stay off the roadways. Of course, Sir. During the return trip, we attempted one of the ultra rocky side trails that snake sharply uphill for a mile or two, then traverse the side of the mountain for another miles before turning back down to rejoin the main jeep road trail. The entire five mile loop has no dirt, it’s all one big rock garden. Rocks range in size from grapes to watermelons, and everything in between. This is definitely not South Jersey! Truth be told, we only went a half mile or so before the 2 wheelers began tipping over and we decided to turn back. Guess what….no one complained. Finally back at the trucks at 4:30, we licked our wounds and contemplated one more loop, before agreeing that an earlier departure and a hot meal sounded much better. We had covered 37 miles in glorious weather conditions; it was a pleasure to spend a day outside in the mountains. On the way home, we stopped near Charles Town, West Virginia for a fabulous southern buffet that included unlimited crabs legs, Chinese food, Sushi, and much more, including ice cream for dessert. That made us feel much better, thank-you very much, and the ride home went quickly and smoothly. We drove away from the sunset, through scenic valleys, and were back at the shop at 10 PM. Sunday, of course was spent recuperating and cleaning gear and bikes in preparation for next month’s journey to Kentucky. Motel reservations have been made, call for yours soon. , Road Ride Report for Sunday, April 6th 2006
Well, the original forecast was for rain Saturday and sunshine on Sunday. Unfortunately, things got held up somehow, and the rain arrived early Sunday. Still, Ephrata is so fun, and you just know that some people are heading there, regardless of the weather, so I donned my rain gear and headed for the shop, arriving at 5 of 8. It’s odd, the last few months people have showed up to ride despite cold rains and even despite snowy and icy road conditions. Yet, on this rainy spring day, with temperatures in the upper 40’s heading for 60, no one showed up. I guess the availability of good riding weather within a day or two makes sleeping in look pretty good on a gloomy Sunday morning. At 8:10 I headed back home for more pancakes, and to catch up on some much needed routine maintenance. Oh well, that’s how it goes sometimes….no worries mate. In May we’ll head to Butler’s Orchard. Hope to CU there.
Ride Report for Zerbe, PA 03-30-08. ATV and Dirt Bike Ride.
It’s odd, one can never predict how many riders will show up for a given ride. Odds were in favor of a good turn out for this one though. It was the beginning of spring, the forecast was for excellent weather, and Zerbe is a free ride with no real registration or insurance requirements. Plus, I had been getting phone calls all week from people who wanted to join us for the ride, get shown to the spot and around the spot, and maybe even join us for the free dinner (well, not really free, just paid for by Powersports East). The trouble is, a lot of the people who call don’t want to come to the dealership to group up with the rest of us in the morning. Either it’s in the wrong direction, or they don’t want to get up so early, or whatever. I usually email driving directions to these callers and give them my cell phone number. Sometimes we see them, sometimes we don’t. At the shop on this day, we met with 4 or 5 regulars and a whole bunch of new people, plus several riders we hadn’t seen in a long time. We made pretty good time to the ride site: even with one rest stop, we arrived in 3 hours almost to the minute, and were unloaded and ready to ride just before noon. I had passed out driving route sheets to everyone at the parking lot at 8:30, and also gave the “lay of the land” speech just before we began riding. We had to split into 4 or 5 groups because there were over 30 riders present, 3 or 4 on 2 wheelers, 6 or 8 on sport quads, and the rest on utility style quads. Several families came out to play, including one woman who was a pretty new rider, and several teenage boys. We headed out for ‘loop one’ in various directions, my group headed down the valley into the woods. We explored about 30 miles of second growth abandoned strip mine lands and ATV trails through the woods. There was no dust, and some puddles. We skirted the puddles for the most part, but some people just like to play in the mud. At one point, we had stopped to regroup, and 3 riders approached the very large puddle we had just skirted around from the opposite direction. The apparent leader, on an un-muffled Polaris 4 wheel drive asked us, “How deep is it?”. Although we never went through the puddle, we never hesitated, and said “It won’t be any problem for you”. I know it’s wrong to lie, but we were hoping for a show. And a show is what we got: the Polaris rider eased into the puddle, and bogged down momentarily. The skillful rider rocked the machine as hard as he could while spinning all 4 wheels, throwing big rooster tails from each. Finally, he managed to claw his way out. Then he turned around and did it again. Not to be outdone, his buddy on a 2 wheel drive sport model made a crazed Banzi charge at the puddle. He was totally stuck in a matter of seconds, and called to his friend on the Polaris to come over and winch him out. His buddy did just that, but not before SLAMMING into the puddle right next to his stuck riding buddy, sending a Tsunami like bow wave over the top of the poor guy’s head. All he could do was duck and take the hit. He came up soaking wet head to toe, coughing and choking on the muddy water. Such fun. We looped back and stopped at the trucks for a lunch break before heading in the opposite direction for a second loop. I promised to show some of the new riders the humongous hill climbs known as the ‘coal dust pits’. The other groups all showed up at about the same time for lunch, and they also made ready for a second loop. The trouble was, I had a very hard time getting there. It was only 2 miles away, and I had been there scores of times, but every trail seemed to be a dead end. Finally, after extensive exploration, and by the process of elimination, I managed to get us there. On the way we discovered several excellent and previously unrecorded trails. In other words, even getting lost was loads of fun. Finally, we got to spend 10 or 15 minutes at the coal dust piles climbing some of the easier hills and marveling at the tire tracks going to the top of some of the bigger and impossible looking ones. We made it back to the trucks just past 5 o’clock, as planned. After loading up and accounting for everyone, we made our way down the mountain, through Pottsville and stopped at a diner in Hamburg, PA. Seventeen of us feasted on everything from steak to salad bar while telling lies about how fast and brave we were. I headed back to the shop to get my truck, and after reloading, I still made it home before 10 o’clock. Incidentally, I rode the Kymco Mongoose 300 ATV again, and I continue to be impressed with the build quality of this machine. In three or four outings, it has given outstanding service with no problems, taking everything I could throw at it in stride. I have upgraded the front shocks, and am working on an upgrade for the skid plate. Soon, it will go back to the showroom floor where it will be sold with a full warranty at a reduced price. Let someone in the sales department know if you have an interest. One other thing; on this ride, a few people were breaking some of the most basic safety rules of ATV riding. Please be advised that we insist on helmets, and highly recommend eye protection, boots, gloves, body armor and all that protective gear. On this particular ride, there were kids under 16 on full sized ATV’s plainly labled NOT FOR UNDER 16. Also, there was one couple riding two up on an ATV designed for rider only, and also plainly labled NO PASSENGERS. I have to say that all of these riders were experienced, and very much under control. They rode well, sometimes in pretty technical stuff, and I never felt they were about to crash. Still, it does put me in an awkward position, and I would prefer that warning labels were followed. Enough said.
Road Ride Report: March 16, 2008…Jersey Shore Jaunt
I had promised fine weather in the ride posting, but the day dawned late gray and overcast. Just before I left home for the shop, it began to mist, so I put on the rubber boots and set out, thinking maybe no one would show up. There was a steady light rain falling at Powersports East when I arrived at 10:20, but not enough to deter 4 intrepid riders: Paul on the big Vulcan, Mike on his BMW/GS, Brian with a new looking 1250 Suzuki Bandit, and George, whom we hadn’t seen in ages, joined us from Philly on his red CBR600. We crossed over the DMB and made our course due east, following route 40 all the way to Atlantic City. The weather showed little improvement for the first 40 miles or so, so we took a break for gas and to warm up en route. The hot coffee helped a lot, but not as much as the now improved weather: things were finally drying out. At the shore, we came about to the starboard, and took a southerly heading along the beach. The shore route here follows the barrier islands, passing through all the resorts: Ventnor, Margate(with its 30 foot high elephant), Ocean City, Sea Isle City, Avalon, Stone harbor, Wildwood, and Cape May. Personally, I like this area much better without the crowds. Off season, these resorts seem ghostlike: you can almost hear the echoes of the noisy crowds of summer. There is little traffic, of course, except for the local police, who have little to do at this time of year, other than strictly enforcing the traffic laws. And so, we made our way slowly down shore, taking in views of empty luxury homes on our right, and empty sand dunes on our left. This scenic drive passes over several small toll bridges connecting the long narrow islands end to end; Easy Pass not accepted here. Sometimes motorists have to toot to wake the lonely toll collector. All in all, it gives one the feeling of taking a sea cruise by motorcycle. Best of all, the weather kept improving, and we even caught a few glimpses of sun. Still it was cool, and food was becoming an issue. I guess I missed the New York style deli where we usually stop for lunch. By the time we reached Wildwood at 2 o’clock, I was getting desperate for food, and I also was just about to hit reserve. We killed two birds with one stone, stopping for fuel, and taking the attendant’s recommendation for food across the street. We were glad for the good advice, the Italian feast was hot, tasty, and of ample proportions; we only regretted being unable to carry the leftovers home. To reach home, we made our way north along Jersey’s relatively undeveloped west coast, maintaining a respectable pace past Bivalve through Bridgeton to Salem, where we made our final fuel stop, and said our goodbyes. Spring is just a few days away, and we were happy to get a head start on the riding season, covering over 200 enjoyable miles, topped off with a great meal and some excellent camaraderie.
Ride Report, ATV/Dirt Bike ride February 24th at Pocomoke, MD
I rolled out the Kymco Mongoose 300 to test my new front shock absorbers, and met John at Powersports East about 20 minutes early. We transferred his Kawasaki 2 wheeler and its trailer to my truck so as to share gas expenses. Bob, who makes it to pretty much every ride, brought his wife Robin and his Polaris Razor side-by-side. We also met Jeff and Charles; they brought their full sized 4 wheel drive ATV’s. On the way down, we happened to hook up with Adrian who had the Yamaha Grizzly in his pickup. After leaving a few minutes late, we made up some time on the road and met Keith at the ride site. Keith’s wife had been kind enough to pick up trail use permits for us during the week, and these were distributed in exchange for the $15 fee. It’s a bargain for sure, as the permits are good until the end of the year, and they open the door to 4 or 5 decent ride sites in Maryland. As people began to head out onto the trails, Keith reported that his bike would not run, except for 10 seconds with full choke. We pulled the carb to clean out the jets, which were full or green mung from very old fuel. This partial carb cleaning was all we felt comfortable with squatting in the dirt. The results were not great. The bike now ran, but kept stalling out. Keith bravely soldiered on for a few miles, hoping that it would clean out, but before it did, he fell into one of the huge deep puddles that Pocomoke is famous for, drowning the engine. We cleaned water out of the airbox and out of the carb float bowl and kicked and kicked, but never did get it to restart. In the end, we wound up borrowing a tow rope and pulling it back to the truck. Keith finished his day reading magazines in the truck, after changing into dry clothes. Well, at least now I could get in some serious riding, or so I thought. Just before setting off, I met a group of three fellows who arrived late from Kennett Square/Oxford PA. They had only 2 machines between them: 1 CRF150 and a big 4 wheel drive Suzuki quad. They wanted to buy permits and ride, so I offered to take them down the trail for ½ mile to where Keith was hanging out with the unsold permits. I was weaving my way around the (famously deep) puddles when I noticed that they were no longer behind me. I backtracked a little and found Mark kneeling on the seat of his Suzuki quad. The rest of the huge machine was sunk in a huge mud hole. Apparently Mark thought his ATV would also work as a submarine, but we now know that this is not true. Mark worked his way forward to the front luggage rack. After standing, extending his arms out and yelling, “I’m the king of the world!” he plunged one arm into the frigid water to yank on his winch cable while he thumbed the deploy button with his other hand. He looked like some kind of Kundulini contortionist, which I must admit I found quite amusing, but he couldn’t get the winch cable to play out more than a few feet. Finally, I found a long downed tree branch, which I held out to him. He wrapped the cable around it, and I pulled hard from shore, which finally got the entangled wire to play out. We wrapped it around a tree and got the heavy machine beached. There was no water in the air box, but the muffler had been under water for several minutes, and the motor was hydro-locked; in other words, there was a bunch of water inside the combustion chamber…..NOT GOOD. We had to pull a bunch of body panels just to find the spark plug, then roll the machine onto its side and pump the water out by cranking the starter motor for a long time. It seemed like there was about a gallon in there. Surprisingly, it then started right up, and after clearing its throat for a while, ran just fine. Mark commented that the puddle hadn’t looked so deep. Then again, they all look the same from the surface. We were sort of wondering how the puddles get so deep, but we found out: there are several “mud enthusiasts” who frequent this ride spot. They have huge 4 wheel drive ATVs that are modified especially for excavating puddles. The air box intakes are plumbed into PVC tubing that extends up about 3 feet above the front luggage rack. The exhaust outlet from the muffler is plumbed into a similar metal riser that extends above the rear rack, and is capped with a flapper valve. Wheels and tires have been swapped for aftermarket items that raise the undercarriage substantially while providing huge traction with paddle like tread patterns. So equipped, these brutish ATVs are able to run completely submerged, with only the pipes and rider’s head sticking up. By gunning the engine mercilessly and spinning the wheels radically, the pilot is able to maintain momentum through the mud, while digging the trench deeper with every pass. So why would anyone want to ride here? Well, it’s not too far away. It’ usually a bit warmer down south by the shore (it topped out in the 50’s). The sandy terrain is a pleasant break from the rocks or Pennsylvania, and the Virginias. Besides, any chance to get outside and ride in February is welcomed. Oh ya, the restaurant is also great. We all met Keith’s wife and kids, and had a feast at Waterman’s in Salisbury. Over dinner, we swapped lies and did some serious bench racing before hightailing it home. ‘Twas fun all in all.
Road Ride Report: Saturday, February 23, 2008: 70 Miles in February
Understandably, many riders may choose to sit in their garages and look at or polish their bikes, waiting patiently for spring. After all, with an iffy forecast, debris all over the road, corrosive salt on your shiney machine, the discomfort of cold temperatures, and concerns for safety, there are certainly plenty of reasons to cancel a ride. What with the wonder of instant communication via internet, it would be sensible, prudent, and convenient to do just that. But we don’t do that. We do not cancel rides. Ever. Period. Here is the thinking: each rider can decide for themselves if they want to ride that day or not. Those who do not wish to ride may simply not show up. No reflection upon them, we all choose our own way. Those who DO want to ride can show up knowing that the ride has not been cancelled. If the riders who meet at the shop decide that they should not ride after all, they can just go home, or maybe go across the street for breakfast.
These are the only ways a Powersports East ride will not go off as scheduled: 1) No one shows up (other than me). 2) The people who show up decide, in the parking lot, to bag it.
Both of these have happened. Sometimes, when number one occurs, I am happy to ride alone, or to go home and go back to bed. Every time number 2 has occurred, I have wound up with regrets. To be honest, there are times when I hope that no one shows up; like when I got too little sleep, or have a hangover. But…if there is even one rider there, we usually ride, or at least go to breakfast before bagging it. Incidentally, almost every time we have bagged a ride, the sun comes out, the temperature soars, the birds begin singing and we sit at home in front of the TV regretting it. Getting out for a ride once a month with a group of dedicated like minded individuals is a good thing. It will make you physically and mentally more fit. It will lengthen your life span and is sure to improve your sex life. You will become more popular with your peers, and frankly, I do not see any down side to this whatsoever, regardless of weather. On this Saturday, I reviewed email from riders suggesting that the ride should be cancelled. I looked at the forecast which suggested ice and salt water on the roads, and miserably cold temperatures under depressing overcast February skies. The roads were choked by recent snowfalls, and my bikes all looked so wonderful without a thick coating of salt. I doubted that anyone would show up. I even said to my wife, “I’ll probably be back soon, who would ever show up to ride today”. Then I pushed the sidecar rig out of the warm, cozy garage, plugged in my electric vest, and headed out for Powersports East. OK, so maybe I cheated a little. I mean, a sidecar machine does not tip over when the front wheel hits a patch of ice or when too much throttle spins up the rear wheel. Locking the front brake is also not a real cause for concern. Corners can be approached with relative abandon: since something NORMALLY has to slide in order for the contraption to turn, a three wheel drift is no big deal. The fact is, sidecars are extremely tractable and stable on snow or ice. The electric vest is the greatest thing that ever happened to motorcycling, regardless of the season. There are also electric gloves and pants in stock at the shop. On a 30 degree day, it will probably be necessary to cycle the vest on and off so you don’t get too hot, or fit a thermostat. If you don’t use these electric clothes, it can only be because you haven’t tried them. Next cold day, go to the parts department, and get them to hook you up for a test ride. A technician can wire your bike in a few minutes, then get out and try riding warm and cozy. Like the ad says: “Laugh at the cold”. ANYWAY about the ride….. Bob, snug with his electric vest and gloves running, showed up on his KTM DUKE II.
Paul on his Vulcan, and Chris on his Shadow (I think) were waiting for me when I arrived. We agreed that the temperature was 35, so we needed a destination 35 miles away. We tossed a coin to determine our compass heading, and decided to ride through West Chester to Downingtown for lunch. I rode first on the sidecar bike at reduced speed since I didn’t want anyone to follow me onto an icy patch that would be problematical on 2 wheels. We traveled carefully down Route 100, enjoying the ‘winter wonderland’: snow covered fields made everything look clean and pristine. We stopped next to the Brandywine at Simon Pierce. This is a fancy restaurant/glass blowing shop. We were not at all interested in the haute cuisine, but we were very interested in the heat from the glass works furnace. Unfortunately, the furnaces were down for the day, but the large entry foyer was electrically heated to 75 or 80 degrees, so we hung out there for 10 minutes of good comraderie. Paul and Chris were very hard core, neither had electric clothes or even a windshield; these are some dedicated motorcyclists. Once warmed up a bit, we followed the Brandywine along Creek Road, and by meandering a bit on some of the very scenic side streets, made our mileage just reach 35 as we pulled into the Country Buffet. The ‘double tunnel’ just before truck 322 was especially interesting. Normally, it is somewhat intimidating, since the 90 degree bend in the middle makes it impossible to see the exit until past half way. Besides the darkness, today the tunnel entrance was framed by huge stalactite icicles hanging from the ceiling. It was like riding into the jaws of a huge shark, and besides the possibility of a frozen spear falling on your head, there was a big patch of ice on the road……instant sphincter wink. But we all made it OK, and enjoyed a major chow down (and plenty of hot liquids) at the buffet, along with more good company and conversation. As we headed back south, over and through a covered bridge across yet another branch of the Brandywine, everyone agreed that in spite of the arduous conditions, getting out on a bike for a few hours during the coldest part of the coldest month of the year is a worthwhile endeavor.
Ride Report. 12/15/07: St. Clair
You may have been at the mall Christmas shopping, but 17 hearty ATV riders were up near Pottsville, enjoying some fine winter ATV riding conditions. The day was partly cloudy, a little gloomy, and cold. We left Powersports East at 9:15, and made the 2+ hour drive with one rest stop. A group of ten had taken a different route, and after saying hello while we were unloading, rode on their own; we never saw or heard from them again. That left 7 of us, including Bob with the new Razor side by side, me on a brand new Kymco 300 Mongoose, Bob and Joe on big 4 wheel drive quads, and Karl with his Polaris and 2 friends on huge CanAm quads. The ground up there was covered with very hard packed snow about 2 inches deep, and lots of ice. All the puddles were frozen (at least until the Razor drove over them). We made new friends on this trip, and rode new machines, not to mention that this is a new ride area for our monthly excursions. The terrain was fairly typical of the region: overgrown strip mines, and moderately rocky. It seems that the trails are used regularly for recreation, but not too many riders were around on this day. Within a half hour of leaving the trucks, one ATV overheated. The fan blade had fallen off of the fan motor, due to a dropped circlip. Luckily, the rider was prepared with a new E clip on hand, and we quickly had the fan out and apart. The drive pin had also become lost, but we were able to fabricate one from a key FOB. With everyone pitching in we had it repaired and together in about 15 minutes. We used a quart of drinking water to top off the cooling system , and everything worked well from then on. We let Bob lead for awhile, but in the big Razor, he tended to stay on the open trails and dirt roads. I volunteered to take over on the point, and promptly began seeking ever tighter and more technical trails, including several dead ends. This helped us stay warm, as we worked the ATV’s over and around obstacles. It was incredible that the Razor was able to go everywhere we went. Finally, though, Bob had enough of getting stuck and beating up his new toy, and we returned to more open terrain. The snow and ice kept things pretty slick: when I wanted to see if the other riders were still with me, I just waited for an open area and without loosing forward momentum, gassed it up to do a big lazy 180. Took a good look and counted heads, then spun her back around to keep on moving. Actually, I did a lot of spinning around. I can’t help it, it’s way too much fun! Temperatures barely approached the freezing level, good thing everyone was well bundled up. Actually, I had to remove a layer at one point; I was sweating too much. After weeks of gloomy overcast weather and rain, it was great just to be outside for a few hours, under partly sunny skies. We covered about 25 miles in 4 hours of exploring this new area, I estimate we only covered ¼ of the available area, so we will have to return for further exploration. In the end, we all thought the Razor was a blast, but it didn’t “mesh” very well with a bunch of guys on ATV’s, determined to find the most technical trails around. The other new machine, the Kymco 300 was also very impressive. The fit and finish rivals any Japanese machine. The motor, electrics, transmission, steering, frame, wheels, brakes, ergonomics…..all were top notch. Only the suspension was in need of some minor fine tuning because the springs were too stiff. This machine is right on a par with the Honda TRX300EX, but with an automatic transmission. Extremely good value for the money.
Same thing goes for this riding area, which I will call St. Clair. Not perfect, but its free and only 2 hours away. Well worth a visit, maybe you will join us next time, and to entice you to do so remember, Powersports East will buy you dinner (if you last the day). In this case, we stopped at a real American diner on route 61 and had the buffet, which was also excellent: another good value. The meal gave us a chance to lie about how fast we ride, and to get to know our new friends a little better.
Ride report: street ride, 12-16-07
Street bike rides are never cancelled due to bad weather. There are times when the weather is so bad, I just know nobody is going to show up, but I ride to the start point anyway, so as to maintain this zero cancellation policy. It’s simpler than getting fifteen phone calls the night before from people asking if the ride is going to be cancelled. Our ride is never cancelled in advance. If someone shows up, we go. If no one shows up, I go home and go back to bed.
I was reasonably confident that no one would show up for this one. The weather was miserable: A NOR’EASTER had settled over the east coast, bringing buckets of rain, and temperatures hovered in the lower to mid forties. I had so many clothes on that it took 15 minutes to pee, which at my age meant I had to start planning the next pee before I finished the last one. Even if I peed my pants, at least it would be warm for a little while. I figured to ride to the shop and load my bike into my pickup (which I had left there the day before) and DRIVE back home. I did a double take as I approached the shop at 9 AM though; there was Chris, standing under the awning out front with his shiny (but soaking wet) Vulcan, waiting for me. OK, so be it, we’re going for a ride. Yee hah. I told Chris we would just ride over to Middletown and visit Bob’s garage, always full of dozens of cool toys. I thought we would get Bob out of bed, have a cup of coffee, look at a few bikes and call it a day. As we pulled up to Bob’s, his wife invited us in for coffee, and offered to get her lazy no good for nothing husband out of bed. This was going exactly according to plan. Bob surprised me though, he said “just give me 20 minutes and I’ll be ready to go”. So, around 10:30, we bundled back up in our riding gear including snow suits and rain suits, Bob wheeled out his FJR1300 and joined me on the ’74 BMW R90 and Chris on his late model Vulcan. We headed over to route 9 and turned south. I will say that it was surprisingly comfortable: we all were quite well prepared for the bad weather, and everyone was able to ride smoothly and quickly for the conditions. The visibility was problematical at times, but the total lack of traffic helped a lot. Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing a single car on route 9, and for sure, there were no other idiots riding around on motorcycles. Idiots or not, a bad day on my bike is better than a good day at work anytime. We did have some fun. After blasting through the standing water on route 9 for a while, we turned west and found a Waffle House just south of Smyrna. Bob hadn’t even had breakfast, so we stopped and all got a bite, some hot liquid and some HEAT into our bones. We also visited Mikes Famous in Smyrna, just to check it out, and to show all the Harley guys how tough we were (they seemed strangely unimpressed). Next, we suited back up and headed west on route 6. After crossing into Maryland, I turned north on the first tiny road. Five or ten miles later, I made another right until we crossed back into Delaware, then turned north again. This process was repeated over and over, so we wound up criss-crossing the state line repeatedly as we worked our way north, staying almost lost the whole way, and stopping for a break finally in Chesapeake City. The area along the border is very rural and undeveloped. The pace is a little slower, and the countryside is lovely as well. The roads are bumpy at times, curvy in spots, and always interesting. In spite of the miserable weather, we had a great ride. I covered a bit over 100 miles. Our gear kept us relatively warm and dry, and we were all glad to have gotten outside for a few hours, and onto our bikes. January’s ride is in a van or bus to the IMS show in DC. February is the annual “thermometer run”. Check the events page on this web site for details. Then come on out and ride with us!
Ride Report, Hatfield McCoy, West Virginia, November 16,17,18
It seems like no matter what time we leave, everyone wants to make the trip at different times, which is just fine with me. Four of us, Bob, Doug, Miles and I were to leave from Powersports East on Friday at 1 o’clock. We decided to cut costs by crowding a bit into the big Nisan Titan and pulling a trailer with 2 ATVs plus three bikes and all our gear in the truck bed. Comfort was acceptable for 3 adults and one kid in the king cab. As it turned out, no one else was leaving from that location at that time, so at the last minute, we decided to leave from my house in Kennett Square instead. This may have saved us ½ hour. We left at 12:45, just a bit earlier than usual, and totally missed any Friday rush hour traffic jams. Even with a dinner stop, we made it to the Holiday Inn Suites just past 9 o’clock.
Meanwhile, Adrian, Joe and Mike and John had left on Thursday, so they enjoyed riding all day Friday, and Saturday plus a half day on Sunday. I think we will plan on using this schedule in the spring, so we can spend more time in on the trails. Steve and his 4 friends were supposed to leave at the same time as we did on Friday, but got hung up with some last minute details, and wound up pulling in past midnight. But the hero award goes to Jim, and the other three riders from New Jersey. These hard core dudes left late on Friday evening. They drove all night long, met us in the lobby at 8AM for breakfast, and then rode all day long before joining us for dinner at 8 PM Saturday night. They basically were awake for 48 hours straight, although it was rumored that some of them were catnapping at different times. Who can blame them for that?
So, all told, there were 17 of us riding. On Saturday, we headed for the Reverend Compton trail head. The temperatures started out cold, but soon warmed up to around 60. The trails were free of dust, and offered good traction, except for some puddles which were a bit slimy. The ATV riders were definitely getting way more mud and water than the guys on bikes. When we met a group of 4 wheelers on the trail, we couldn’t even tell who was who, they were so covered with mud. At first everyone was skirting the puddles , or riding through them slowly, but, as always, it wasn’t too long before testosterone took hold, and everyone was hitting the big puddles wide open. Some were considerably deeper than they looked.
One motorcycle had a flat tire before we even started, so we took 20 minutes or so to do a quick tube change. This is the second time this season that I have seen a brand new “heavy duty” inner tube with a pulled out valve stem. We covered 60 plus miles on Saturday, exploring in different directions to visit one town for lunch, and another for gas. Some of the faster riders found time to visit the third town that is also accessible by the trails. The local ordinances allow ATVs and unlicensed dirt bikes to ride into town for food, gas, and supplies, which means that our rides can have a destination, and we can eat lunch and top up our gas without returning to the trucks. We mostly stayed on easy trails Saturday so we could cover more ground. We got back to the hotel at 6:30, leaving time for a dip in the excellent hot tub and a refreshing swim in the indoor pool as well as a good hot shower. Then 14 of us (some guys fell asleep!) walked over to a nearby steak house where dinner for all was covered by Powersports East.
We started Sunday early, leaving the hotel at 8 AM, and made our way to Dingess Rum Trails, just 15 minutes from the hotel. We were riding by 9:15, and the weather was really fine. In fact, while it was slightly cool in the shade early on, we were delighted to hit 70 degrees, under fabulous blue skies before the ride’s end. Especially since it was cold and raining back home all weekend. The trails were drier too, and the autumn colors were very intense. We stayed on intermediate trails Sunday, and covered 40 more miles before loading up at 1:30, for a 2PM departure. To tell the truth, it was very hard to leave; everyone wanted to stat because it was so beautiful. Again, we made good time, arriving back home at 10 PM.
The crazy guys from New Jersey finally succumbed to the need for sleep, and they only made it to the trails as we were leaving. However, they planned to ride until dark and leave for home Monday morning. All in all, everyone had a great time. The trails and the weather were awesome. There is just not better riding to be had this side of the Mississippi. Absolutely everyone agreed that the riding makes the long trip well worthwhile. You should really plan to join us when we return in the spring.
Ride Report: Wheaton Village, November 4, 2007
It’s unusual to have street bike rides on consecutive weekends, but that’s the way the schedule worked out this year. For that very reason, I wasn’t expecting a good turnout, but I was pleasantly surprised that we again had 10 riders ready to rock and roll after an unusually good night’s rest: not only were we leaving rather late at 11:30 but it was the first day of daylight savings.
I’ve been trying to fight off the loss of memory associated with becoming old and decrepit lately by making a serious effort to remember names. This is what I can remember:
Joel…1973 Laverda 750 (old bike:good excuse for going slow) Rob…2004 Honda Super Hawk (fast bike…good excuse for going fast) Tony…Green Kawasaki sport bike (not as low as it once was..no excuse needed) Dave…Burgman 650 super-scooter (a regular…has been known to cruise at 80) Jim….GL-Trike Conversion (he built it himself, it’s gorgeous) Paul…Kawasaki Cruiser (lots of headlights…he’s an engineer) Mystery couple…GL1800 (I spent all day and had lunch with them, but I can’t remember their names) (nice folks though) Bob..HD V-Rod…(beautiful in orange) Ted…..ST1300…(got it because his GL was too heavy!) (it still weighs over 600 pounds, I think) Bob…. HD Dresser (unfortunately, he missed lunch)
Well, that’s pretty good, even though I’m sure there are a few inaccuracies.
Anyway, we crossed into Jersey over the DMB, then got off the highway ASAP and cut through Pennsville and Salem to hug the western shore. These are some of the nicest roads in jersey, with little or no traffic, and quaint towns with names like Bivalve and Seabreeze. We enjoyed high speed blasts along the straight-aways, broken up by bits of curvy road, and low speed passage through sleepy villages. Temperatures stayed in the low to mid 50’s as we cut through serious farm country, in between the orchards, and finally resurfaced in Bridgeton. A 20 minute break at the local Dunkin Donuts, along with a nice hot cuppa soon had the circulation going again and we continued on to Millville. Here, we became a bit confused, maybe due to the cold affecting my brain, or maybe because they changed the name of the place and took down all the old signs. Eventually, we “spiraled in” to the area formally known as Wheaton Village, now called Wheaton Arts Cultural Center. This is a restored village and glass mill, and it’s a great place to visit on a cool day. We paid the $10 entry fee (well, most of us did) and hoofed it over to the glass blowing demonstration area. The huge furnace was stoked up to white hot, and at the top of the bleachers, it felt like we were in a sauna. We feverishly removed layer after layer to let the delicious warmth in, and were soon saturated in heat, glorious heat.
During a quick saunter through the souvenir shops located in the restored village buildings Bob bought his wife a decorative dip spreader, hoping to exchange it for sexual favors. (OK. I got my wife some glass balls. Don’t even go there) We made our way over to the restaurant for some hot soup and sandwiches. It was 3 o’clock by the time we left, and the return route paralleled route 49, staying just to it’s north, and providing us with more of the same excellent south jersey back roads and scenery, finally dumping us back at the DMB. Three dollars later, and we were in Delaware again, able to make it home just before dark. I don’t know about the others, but I headed straight for the hot tub.
Ride Report, Scary Street Ride of October 28th, 2007
Leaving late on a Sunday morning, at 11 AM, is nice. It gives everyone time to rest and sleep in a little. Today was a short ride, so there would also be time to get some chores done or watch football in the afternoon. This arrangement appealed to 10 riders, as we departed the dealership under fair skies. We headed at once into PA, through “the valley” then over “roller coaster road” to Smith’s Bridge. We squeezed our bikes into a little area along the shoulder and spent about 15 minutes admiring the architecture or this lovely covered bridge over the Brandywine. It was rebuilt several years ago from huge arched pieces of a special extra dense lumber imported from South Africa. This wood is so dense that it actually will not float, and resists the weather very well. The original cover over this bridge was burnt down back in the 60’s by Halloween vandals, so it is fitting to visit it at this time of year. We spent just long enough at the bridge for a couple on a Gold Wing to catch up after a late start. We returned to route 100 north, and enjoyed the very curvy run to Lenape Forge, where we followed the Brandywine on Creek Road.
At this point, we left the beaten path to explore what was once a paved road, named Blue Rock Road, but it got cut off by a residential development. Technically still a public road, it has become very overgrown, and narrow, barely wide enough for a motorcycle, and pretty scary for anyone on a shiny wide touring bike. To add to the fear factor, a few of the riders were present several years ago when the Halloween ride took this same ‘short cut’, and the lead bike had engine problems, which, due to the narrowness of the pathway, stopped everyone in their tracks. While we tried to sort out the mechanical gremlin, we were shocked, and frightened out of our wits, as several ghoulish fiends appeared from out of the woods. One held a bloody severed hand in his mouth, while another brandished a loud running chainsaw. These fiends ran down the entire row of bikes and riders, causing major laundry concerns for all involved. Fortunately, this year, the lead bike stayed running and we were spared a repeat attack. Things were going a little too smoothly, and I should have known that all was not as it appeared.
We continued on to route 846 in Kennett Township, and stopped at Marlborough Farms for some hot cider and an enjoyable hayride arranged by Powersports East. As the tractor pulled all ten riders around the farm in a big hay covered trailer, we relaxed and were really enjoying the warm sun when we were suddenly diverted into an old barn. Inside, the tractor drove into a dead end formed by hay bales piled to the ceiling. Before we could back out, the doors slammed shut, engulfing us all in near total darkness. What’s this? Smoke began to pour out of one of the hay bales, and we were quickly engulfed. Then, you guessed it, the chain saws started up and we were horribly ambushed by a troop of walking dead, determined to sever all of our limbs and heads. Blood curdling screams filled the acrid smoke filled barn as we were symbolically tortured and dismembered.
The survivors enjoyed a light lunch at the North Brook Barn store, after which we each went our own way, some returning home for errands or relaxation, while others headed north and west to sample more of Chester County’s finest roads. Any way you look at it, it was a Scary Halloween ride to remember.
Ride Report: Green Ridge, MD 10/13/07
Green Ridge ORV area consists or 16 miles of unimproved forest road. In addition, this massive state forest is covered with dirt roads, open to street legal vehicles, which wind up and down the scenic mountains and valleys. Six miles south is the West Virginia state line. The Potomac River and the Paw Paw Tunnel are accessible by narrow, lightly traveled paved and unpaved roads. Six miles north is the PA state line, and Scenic Old Routes 40 and 144, leading to, among other destinations, Town Hill, and its famous 15 mile overlook, as well as another large state forest preserve. All this means that the site holds appeal for those with off road machines, (ATVs, dirt bikes, go carts, side-by-sides) and also for riders with street legal dual sport bikes: off road capable bikes that are registered and insured for road use as well.
On this sunny morning, 5 of us met at the dealership. My truck was packed, with my street legal XR650R, my grandson’s CRF80, and Bob’s Suzuki DRZ400. We also pulled a small trailer with Doug’s Suzuki DR650 and all of our gear bags. We all 4 managed to fit into the extended cab, but just barely. John, on the other hand arrived at the last minute, all alone in his SUV, pulling a roomy trailer with his just purchased TRX300EX. Naturally, we moved Bob over to John’s SUV, giving John someone to talk to (or, since it was Bob, someone to listen to), and giving the rest of us a bit more room. Grandson Miles took advantage of the room in back to sleep the entire way there and back. Are teenagers related to Dracula or what? At any rate, we made excellent time, arriving at the Ranger’s office at 11:20, so John could buy an annual trail use permit for $15. Miles already had one from the February ride down at Pocomoke, and the other three machines didn’t need one, being street legal (hooray, free ride!). We unloaded and set off for the trail loop at 11:50.
The 16 mile loop was in great condition, though maybe a little dry. It was a bit dusty in spots, and there were very few puddles anywhere. Quite a range of equipment was in evidence: everything from motocross race bikes to ATVs of every brand and type. We saw 2 different go carts, and one Polaris RZR side-by-side. Since the weather was very fine all weekend, a lot of people were camping. It was just a great weekend for being outdoors. We completed the loop at a relaxed pace, stopping several times to take in the fabulous views On one especially rocky uphill section, there were a few minor tip overs, but no harm done.
Back at the trucks at 1:30, we ate lunch and made plans for the afternoon. John and Miles would stay on the ORV Loop for another lap or two, while the remaining three riders on dual sport bikes set out on a mission of exploration and navigation. Doug, Bob and I set out on the maze of dirt roads, riding at a good clip, while allowing for the occasional car or truck. We stopped a few times to admire the view, but basically just kept jamming. We eventually found ourselves in PA, and after regrouping, headed for some more technical terrain. Before very long, we became separated and I found myself all alone. I backtracked and tried all my tricks to locate my mates, but with no luck. Finally, I returned to the truck at the prearranged time of 4:45. We waited and waited, and I got very worried. Then, at 6 o’clock, just as I was looking for an emergency phone number to try, Bob and Doug pulled in, grinning. They had a wonderful time getting lost and finally finding their way back. I, on the other hand, felt jealous that they had managed to sneak in an extra hour and a half of good riding time. For dinner, we stopped in Hancock for a home cooked meal (courtesy of Powersports East) then high tailed it home, arriving back in Bear, DE at 10 PM.
Ride Report: Micheaux State Forest, 09/23/07
Wow! Another gorgeous day. At 10 of 8 on Sunday morning I rolled into the dealership parking lot on a GL1200 that I’ve been working on (forever!) with my humongous gear bag strapped on the back. Micheaux is part of the very extensive Pennsylvania ATV Trail system, and no bikes are allowed, only 3 and 4 wheelers. Since I only have the trusty XR650R at the present time, I felt very lucky that one of our regular riders was willing to lend me his immaculate and beautifully set up Raptor 700 for the day. While waiting for my sponsor, Bob, of Bob’s Touch of the Brush (…you should definitely call him if you need any paint work, he’s really good, and reasonably priced…302-584-2326) I was admiring the cloudless sky and total lack of humidity when a white van pulled in towing a classy box trailer. The young couple in the van asked if this was the place, and of course it was.
And folks, that was it, just me and Bob (he arrived stylishly on time, not a minute to spare) and the couple: Allan and Solmarie. Turns out Allan is also a painter, and inside the trailer, hidden from prying eyes, were two pristine sport quads: Solmarie’s brand new Suzuki and Allan’s Yamaha. So we were only 4 this weekend, and all on sport quads…..this was looking like a lot of fun.
Why such a small crowd? One never knows, maybe people think that PA or NJ or DE ORV registration is not worth the effort. It can’t be the expense, which is usually only about 10 or 15 bucks for 3 years. Maybe people don’t want to buy insurance, as is required by PA. It’s also not too expensive: usually under 100 dollars for a whole year of liability protection. Regardless of the hassle and expense to comply with PA requirements, it is totally worth it to access the hundreds of miles of fabulous groomed trail, available for free all across the state. Maybe Micheaux has a reputation for being rocky, and it is in sections, but it’s not as bad as, say, Virginia.
Anyway, a small group is cool sometimes, especially since it was only Solmarie’s second time out. We arrived in good time and were riding by 11:45. All trails are marked for degree of difficulty, and at first, we stayed on the easiest trails. These are just about one lane wide, and not very technical. Of course, that means you can fly along pretty fast, and we did for a bit, but always waited at turns for everyone to catch up, as usual. Once everyone had settled in a bit, we tried some of the “harder” trails. These are tighter, with rocky sections, winding between the trees necessitating slower speeds which in turn required lots of clutch slipping. Our new rider learned as the day wore on, and proved to be a real tough cookie. At one point, we stopped to talk with some guys on utility quads, with automatic transmissions. One of them asked’ “Hey, how come you guys have clutches?” Bob pretty much summed up Solmarie”s feelings, I think, when he replied (jokingly of course): “Because we’re idiots”. (OK so maybe we are…sometimes)
We alternated between ‘easiest’ and ‘harder’ trails all day, staying away from ‘hardest’. We’ll tackle those next time. The woods were as beautiful as the weather that day, but by 4 o’clock, we were beginning to wonder if we would ever find our way back to the trucks. Obviously, since I’m here writing this, we did, eventually. We left the Big Flats parking area at around 5:30, but not before Bob showed off some by jumping repeatedly off of the loading ramp. When Allan tried to get some air too, he somehow landed next to rather than on top of his ATV, proving that showoffs never prosper. No harm done. A hearty meal at the local steak house was paid for by Powersports East, after which we hightailed it home, arriving at 10 PM. Next month is Green Ridge…..no rocks. In November, we’re off to West Virginia again for Hatfield McCoy. Yee Hah…..who’s comin’?
Ride Report: September 2nd road ride…..125 mile loop
The weather was ideal: sunny but not too hot and no humidity to speak of. I was surprised that this close to Labor Day, 15 bikes tuned up, including sport bikes, cruisers, dressers, and one big scooter. There were several passengers, and one female pilot. We like female riders, our rides were never meant to be ‘guy things’. One couple from Baltimore read about the ride on our website and stayed in a motel the night before so they could join us. I hope they enjoyed their weekend…we enjoyed meeting and riding with them.
We rode west through Elkton MD, then north through Fair Hill, and west to Rising Sun. We regrouped in Havre de Grace, then headed across the Connowingo Resevoir and north on 623, a really sweet back road, and stopped for a break at the boat ramps next to Peach Bottom Nuclear Energy Plant.
I was riding my Norton Commando, and due to some mechanical issues, I was riding a bit slower than usual, so a bunch of sport bikes flew by me from time to time. This is fine by me, I love being passed, especially fast and close, which indicates that the passing rider trusts and respects the rider being passed.
This group was the best at staying together that I have seen in a very long time. People waited at turns so the next rider could see which way to go, even without using the provided route sheets. The regroup points worked perfectly too, so everyone was able to enjoy riding at their own pace, while maintaining the integrity of our loosely bonded group.
After a 15 minute break at the scenic reservoir, we made our way through Quarryville, following 472 all the way to Lewisville. This road runs through some very nice farm country, though the lack of available open gas stations did cause a bit of anxiety. No one ran out, though, and we stopped after 110 miles in West Grove. Then a short hop through Avondale took us to Toughkenamon, PA for lunch. There are a lot of Mexican families in this area, so the Mexican food tends to be very authentic, and very good. This fine sunny day we all pulled into the parking lot of a small grocery/general store called El Cunado (the brother-in-law). Outside the store, on warm weekends, there is an outside grill with really good home made tacos. Powersports East was treating, and we were all hungry.
Ordering was complicated somewhat by the language barrier, but we all managed to get some good tacos, even if we weren’t quite sure what kind of meat was inside. We sat with the locals, outside at a picnic table. Nobody was speaking English but us. It was just like a vacation in Mexico! The icing on the cake was when the rider from Baltimore (I wish I could remember his name) produced a digital camera and lined us all up for a group photo. In order to get in himself, he recruited one of the local folks by saying “snappy, snappy”, and holding out his camera. I guess that must be Spanish for ‘would you please take a picture for us’ because it seemed to work. We were in stiches. I hope the photo gets emailed to Powersports East so it can be included in this report.
All in all this was a very enjoyable day: good weather, good people, good food. Join us for an upcoming ride; autumn is the best riding weather.
Ride Report: Zerbe, 08/26/07
What a day! The weather could not have been any better. Low 80’s and no humidity to speak of. Even the strip mined areas seemed beautiful as we unloaded our machines at 11:30, 3 hours drive time from our 8:30 departure. We started with 13 riders, 5 motorcycles and 8 ATV’s. This put us into two groups, naturally. I had the trusty XR650R, while John showed up on the Yamaha 250. Mike and Joe piloted their Honda CRF250 and 450, while Dennis ran a Yamaha 2 stroke. In a group of 6 quads, Bob led on his TRX250R (an antique, but still works good). Behind him was Jim and associate on Can AM/ Bombardier 4 wheelers, as well as a Kawasaki V-Force 750 and several others. One couple decided to stay close to the trucks, doing short loops and tailgating, and they even fed everyone hot dogs later on. When Bob got a little too lost, Adrian bailed him out with his ultra high technology GPS. The technology was of no use later, unfortunately, when Adrian caught a sharp bump and got launched off of his ATV. Everyone who saw (or felt) his hard face first landing was horrified: it looked really bad. Luckily, although a bit slow getting up, Adrian was not injured; thank goodness he uses a full compliment of protective gear. The ATV didn’t even have the decency to tip over….it just stopped, as if to say, “Oh, is there a problem?” Later on in the day, this group found a really long fairly steep down hill. It looked do-able going down, but dodgy in case a u-turn was needed at the bottom. In the spirit of exploration, the intrepid group decided to descend, only to discover that they were now on private farm land, with no other way out. Everything turned out fine in the end, as everyone completed the ascent without incident. Meanwhile, the 5 motorcycle riders went their own way. Mike was elected leader, and he tried his best to get us completely lost. Somehow, after 20 miles of very lush and interesting trails, we had looped back to the parking area. After a short rest and some lunch, we decided to let Mike try to get us lost again. After another 15 miles of random trail choices, we spotted a very tantalizing 2 track trail, maybe a gas line access, that snaked a very long way up a distant tall ridge. We began to make our way towards this prize, zigzagging and hitting several dead ends. Finally, we were confronted with a very long steep downhill that appeared to lead in the desired direction. While some of us stopped to contemplate this hill, and to think about what would happen if we got down but couldn’t get back up, Mike plunged ahead and made the descent. This sort of committed the rest of us to follow, which we did. At the bottom, we popped out into a firehouse parking lot and a paved road. Furthermore, we could no longer see the 2 track trail that was our original goal: we were too close to the big ridge. We poked around a bit, searching for our goal, but came up with lots of dead ends. Two of us were on dual sport machines with legal license plates, so we sandwiched the others and drove 3 miles down the road at very conservative speed. After skirting around one small village, we were able to enter the local ‘coal dust pile’. Here, huge mounds of black sand are climbed over and over again by the local riders. They never seem interested in riding any of the trails; hill climbing is their main interest. We climbed one or two of the easiest hills, then hooked into a trail system that led back to the trucks. A perfect day, all in all, and to top it off, Powersports East took everyone to a delicious dinner at Fridays.
Rock Run Recreation Report: it Really Rocks and Rolls
FRESH MEAT! I always enjoy scouting out new riding areas. Rock Run just opened in April, and I had been wanting to get there, so…. Jeff and his sons Ray and Nick turned up on their Honda 2 wheelers from new Jersey. Bob (Polaris Outlaw) and I (XR650R) were to share truck space with 15 year old Miles(CRF80R). Doug (KTM 525) from PA hooked up with John (Yamaha 250) from DE. Charles showed up in his really tall linesman’s boots with THREE ATVs, a Yamaha, a Polaris, and a wee tiny Chinese thing. Talk about being prepared! What’s a weekend without mishap? The first mishap of this weekend happened before we left the parking lot, as Miles was helping me hook up a trailer to the truck, and got his hand squished between the trailgate and the hitch. It looked real swollen and bruised, maybe broken, and Miles decided to bail. It was too late to unload his stuff, so we just took it along for the ride. In the end, it turned out to be badly bruised, and Miles missed one of the best events ever. We hit the road at 6:10 on Friday evening, armed with bags of junk food and mapquest printouts. We stopped once, briefly for gas and toilets, and found our host waiting at the rendezvous point at 11:15 PM. Flinton PA is in a lovely undeveloped area northwest of Altoona, in the vastness of PA, west of State College. Bob Kitchen greeted us and made us feel welcomed before escorting us to our home for the weekend: an un-restored farmhouse built in 1890, in a remote location on 110 acres of land. About 30 minutes from the riding area, this place was primitive, but clean and REALLY quiet. We snacked, looked at some motorcycle videos, and hit the hay. Up early Saturday, we stopped for a quick breakfast then made a bee line for Rock Run, where we registered and paid the $15 daily fee. Bob and Doug were feeling frisky, and headed off at high speed, without regard for direction, to tear up the trails as they circulated around the 6,000 acre facility. The rest of us tried to interpret the provided maps and learn the lay of the land. The trails, about 50 miles of them, cover rolling high hills and afford great views in all directions. Some trails were rocky, but not excessively so, others were through the woods and more lush. There were some tricky hill climbs and off camber stuff, and at least one major mud hole area. Trails were clearly marked as to degree of difficulty, although the trail numbering system was a bit confusing. One trail wound through a large field of car sized boulders: awesome. Another led us to several large ponds with azure/blue water, colored by aluminum oxides: Kodak moment. One trail led us to a parking corral next to a snack store selling sandwiches and drinks. We covered about 30 miles before returning to the truck for gas and water. On our second leg, we were all riding in a group, at a slightly faster pace (but not recklessly) when Jeff crashed at moderate speed, and caught his leg under the bike. It really hurt, and we suspected it might be serious: his weekend was over. We also gained a rider on Saturday, as a young man on an XR100 joined us. Tyler lives an hour away and came with his pop-pop who rides an ATV. Tyler rode great, and hung with us both days. We hope to see him again on the trails. Saturday night we partied at the farm house, and watched motorcycle videos until bed time. Sunday, we toured the area (OK we got a little lost) on the way to breakfast, but after a great meal, we unloaded and rode a different set of trails from 10:30 until 1:30, then loaded up, washed and hightailed it out of there, making it to home around 7 PM. Overall, everyone gave the place “two thumbs up” . Over the next year or two, they plan to add another 100 miles of trail, and several MX tracks as well. One thing is for sure…..we’ll be going back. Maybe you’ll come along?
Ride Report Eckley Mining Village 07-15-07
Some quotes which might pertain to this ride: “Many departed…few returned” or…. “A trip without adversity is just a trip. Once adversity is faced head on, the ‘trip’ becomes an Adventure…..or…“GPS is definitely quicker than road maps and dead reckoning……usually.” This was a challenging trip from the start. Things refused to go as smoothly as usual. I knew that getting to the destination via back roads was tricky, and would probably take 6 hours. I had planned to return therefore by a direct highway route. Yes that can be boring, but it gets you where you need to be ASAP. Anyway…. Eight of us in the group. Doug and Bill on 2 BMW’s. One brand new, one of early 80’s vintage. I was on a 1975 Ducati 860GT, Bob on his gorgeous MV Agusta Brutale. Adrian was with his 12 year old Zach on a super duper Yamaha sport tourer complete with ABS, GTS and lots of other letters too. Rob was his reserved quiet self on the yellow GSX 750, and two new recruits included heavily tattooed and pierced Ken on his fine looking Hyabusa, and Carol, looking fine herself on a shiny red Kawasaki sport bike. Tell me honestly…could there be a more varied or interesting assortment of bikes? We kept tight together, and maintained a conservative pace down route 100 towards West Chester. Everyone had route sheets, and when some riders sprinted ahead, they always waited at the next turn to insure that everyone knew where to go. Just on the far side of West Chester, the rider waiting at a turn was a bit too far off the road, and the last three bikes saw him, but missed the turn. During a relaxed u turn down the road a piece, one rider lost balance and tipped over at zero miles per hour. No big deal, just some scratched plastic…it happens sometimes. With everything upright, we renewed forward progress, but within 2 miles, Ken decided the very technical curves were not enjoyable and headed for home. Less than 30 miles into our 150 trip, and a lot had happened. Eight were now 7. We proceeded north according to plan, riding Chester county’s finest back roads until picking up route 100 again, a bit south of Pottstown. The late morning was becoming quite warm, so we stopped at 11:30 for Rita’s Water Ice. We left route 100 again just north of Pottstown and entered a very lovely undeveloped crease while heading north, to the tiny town of Topton, where we had lunch at the local burger joint. The only trouble was we had lost Rob on his yellow Suzuki somewhere. We learned later that some other bikes had followed him, and when he saw them in his mirrors, he assumed he was still with our group, and so he kept riding. We tried to chase him down, and waited to see if he would turn back, but to no avail. Finally we decided to press on, hoping that he would use the route sheet provided to meet us further along the route. Seven had become 6. After lunch, Carol asked to be directed straight home, as she had a late afternoon appointment, so we escorted her to the highway and said our goodbyes. Six was now five. We next negotiated Leaser Lake Road, a tight graveled 2 mile section that climbs up and over the Appalachian Trail. Great stuff on the dual sport BMW’s, not so good for the sport bikes. Somewhat miraculously, about 45 minutes after lunch, five became 6 again, as Bob showed up in the rear views. The route sheet had worked! We proceeded at a respectable pace without incident until getting within 5 miles of our destination. Somehow, I couldn’t seem to get any closer to Eckley Mining Village. We meandered around d for 15 miles or so, slower spiraling in. At one point, Adrian, who has a GPS, tried to show us the way. I stubbornly clung to my paper map and bet him I could find it first. At that point Adrian followed his GPS, and of course found the village in ten minutes. He missed meeting several friendly locals, since I had to stop at peoples’ houses at least 3 times and ask for direction. Finally, we arrived as well, to find Adrian and his son lounging about, relaxing with refreshments. I lost the bet. GPS was absolutely quicker. We explored this interesting location: a mine and a mining village preserved from the 1850’s, and people still live there. There is also an interesting museum. Finally, it was time to head south. People just did not want to hop onto the Blue Route and boogie down with the weekend traffic, though, so we decided that the obviously efficient GPS should be our new leader, and Adrian programmed the device to take us home, but not on any highways. The next 50 miles were great: very lightly travelled back roads took us quickly to a point between Reading and Pottsville. A short hop south on route 61 would have put us in position to make it home at a very decent hour. Everyone felt great. What happened next was a bit of a surprise. The GPS wouldn’t let us use route 61 because it’s a highway, so we got shunted west, away from home for about 35 miles. At 7:00 we stopped for gas, probably a bit further from home than we were the hour before. Here in Pine Grove, we fired the GPS, and decided to break into smaller groups of 1, 2 or 3 to get home as quickly as possible, still a 2 or 2½ hour trek. I was exhausted and hungry. Bob, Rob and I decided to eat at the 7-11, rest for a bit, then take 501 south. Light traffic and some aggressive riding got us home by 9 or 9:30, but not before challenging us one last time: 5 miles from home, 30 mintues after dark, the major downpour happened. I was too tired and close to home to stop and suit up, so I enjoyed the major cooling off and kept right on riding. In all, I had covered a bit over 400 miles in 12 hours. A very excellent and very full day’s ride. Next month, we are planning a VERY SHORT RIDE. JOIN US FOR SOME FUN.
Road Ride Report 06-03-07: Jefferson, PA hill climb
The forecast was rather gloomy: clouds and drizzle turning into major downpours around 6 PM. When I arrived at the dealership there was one lone bike waiting. Then, in the last ten minutes, more and more riders turned out until there were 11 of us all told. Pretty much all sport bikes, including 2 Triumphs, 2 Honda CBR’s (a 600 and a 900), one Kawasaki (lowered for occasional drag racing), a Yamaha sport tourer (with a 12 year old passenger). Everyone had full raingear, and were all prepared to ride in the rain. We set off a bit late and turned west. Just outside of Oxford, PA as we were zipping along a “rollercoaster” country road, poor Tony on the beautiful Kawasaki sport bike bottomed out in a dip and broke the engine oil pan, releasing all the motor oil onto the road. This was the bike that had been lowered for drag racing. OUCH! Tony was fine, but his ride was over, and he was in good spirits and happy to be close enough to home to easily call for a trailer. About 45 miles from Newark, the 10 of us entered the peach bottom region known as ‘The Maze’. This is a large patch of farmlands crisscrossed by meandering roads that are tough to navigate. A sort of Bermuda Triangle, leading out eventually to the route 372 bridge over the Susquehanna. Long story short, 10 went in, only 7 came out. We waited awhile for the missing trio, then decided to advance to the next prearranged ‘regroup’ spot. I was a bit discouraged when of the 7 remaining bikes, only 5 made the regroup stop in Brogue, PA. The best plan I could come up with was to wait a while, so we bought lunch sandwiches and watched the weather. It was rapidly becoming impossible to pretend that it wasn’t really raining, as a steady drizzle settled over us. Finally, the ‘missing 3’ showed up. Luckily, Adrian had his GPS, and it led the 3 out of the maze and to this pre-designated rendezvous. As for the other 2, we had them in sight a short ways back, with no turns to confuse matters. We decided they must have gone home due to the inclement weather. So now the 8 remaining riders donned rain suits and made decent time over very beautiful curvy back roads. The temperature was warm, and even the drizzle was not unpleasant. We arrived at the hill in Jefferson, PA just as the National Anthem was playing. Hillclimbs run rain or shine, and the light rain eliminated all dust, and could potentially provide better than average traction. The first rider to attack the hill was a national champion, and the combination of unrutted track and his basic skill produced an excellent run: he topped the hill easily in 6.5 seconds. It took most of the afternoon for anyone to better that mark, and only 2 riders ran quicker, out of 40 or so entries. Hillclimbs are unique because you get very close to the hill and the bikes and riders. These nitro-methane burning machines are unreal, with 4 foot long swingarms and paddle or chained rear tires for traction. Powered by highly modified Triumph Bonneville motors from decades past, two stroke singles, Harleys, or modern 3 or 4 cylinder sport bike engines, they only run correctly at full throttle, and most of the riders held them right there all the way up, only backing off momentarily for the 3 huge cuts in the hillside, so as to avoid being launched into low orbit. The noise is deafening, the exhaust fumes will burn your eyeballs out, and the riders are fearless. These guys spend thousands on their race bikes, work on them night after night, then drive 20 or 30 hours to compete against the best in the nation, making 3, 7 second runs at the hill: total riding time less than 30 seconds. Quite a show, everyone agreed, we reluctantly began to remember the forecast, and headed out at 2:45. In worsening conditions, we ran the length of route 851, one of PA’s finest, and regrouped in Delta for a sit down meal courtesy of Powersports East. We said our goodbyes as we embarked on the final leg. The last 20 miles were ridden in the most horrendous downpour: positively biblical! The odd part is, not one of us minded it. The day had provided great roads, great racing, great comraderie, and some real adventure. I looked at the storm as an awesome display of nature’s power, and stayed focused on the hot shower waiting at home.
Ride Report: April ’07 dirt bike/ATV ride at George Washington National Forest, Virginia.
We left the Powersports East parking lot on time. Doug and Steve brought out their dual sport machines, a KTM 450 and a Kawasaki KLR650 and shared the big pickup and trailer with young Miles (a 15 year old on a CRF80R) and me (Honda XR650R).
Also in the caravan were 3 or 4 pickups loaded with all manner of ATV’s, there was even a CanAm! The weather was quite fine that Saturday morning as we made our way south and west, arriving at the ride site just under 4 hours later. One of the trucks got a flat front tire on the highway, but got it fixed in under 15 minutes. We didn’t even know they had a problem!
The 4 of us on motorcycles met up with Justin (KTM450) and Keith (Yamaha 450) so we were a group of six on bikes. The rest of the riders, on ATV’s, which included a couple of women, divided up into smaller groups and began explorations. Meanwhile, we took turns kicking Kieth’s bike which was inexplicably hard to start. Once we finally got it running and got all suited up, the CRF80 wouldn’t start! After a bunch of kicking and pushing, someone noticed there was no key in the ignition switch. I think I broke the record for hot wiring a bike, and we finally had all the bikes running.
Our little group of 2 wheelers began by heading from the Taskers Gap parking area towards Little Fort Camp, along an unimproved jeep road. This rough dirt road is 7 miles in each direction, and includes a fairly steep climb up and over a small mountain. Miles on the CRF80 was challenged in a big way, but persevered until the end. At one point, I came around a bend to discover his bike pretty much hanging from a tree, while Miles lay on the ground laughing!
There was a reward at the end: we rode ½ mile (illegally, but very slowly and carefully) up a dirt road to a forest fire observation tower, and climbed three flights to check out a fantastic view: the seven bends of the Shenendoah River. The river here hairpins repeatedly from left to right, framing large plots of extra fertile farmland. A world class view, it was featured as a fold out several years ago in National Geographic magazine.
We retraced our route at a slightly quicker pace, bypassing several ultra extremely rocky side trails, and taking care over the water breaks. These are like speed bumps that cross the road at an angle, whose purpose is to divert rain water rushing down the road so it doesn’t wash out the roadbed. The problem is that if you hit them too fast, you get launched into the air, which is kind of fun, provided you don’t lose control upon landing.
Back at the trucks, we rested briefly, took some food and water, and headed in the other direction for a loop on the rocky trails through the forested mountains. 90 minutes later, we reconvened at the truck to load the bikes. We had covered just 30 very technical miles in about 5 hours. Some riders were very tired. OK we were all very tired.
Meanwhile, the ATV riders were coping with the rocky terrain in their own way. I don’t recall any sport quads, mostly 4 wheel drive utility type models. These machines do well provided they are ridden within certain limits. In other words, you can ride very fast, but if you go too fast, the rocky conditions will cause a flat tire, or a bent rim or a-arm. Even if the machine survives the rocks, fast riding takes a wicked toll on the body. Judging by the limp postures of some of the ATV riders at the end of the day, some of the riders were pretty beat, and maybe wondered why they had traveled so far to pound themselves against the rocks. Others were smiling ear to ear, and a few commented that they loved the trails. For sure, this is the rockiest place we have ever ridden. Once a year is enough for George Washington.
After dinner at a nearby Ponderosa Steak House, paid for by Powersports East, four of us with dual sport bikes said goodbye to the rest of the group, and headed for nearby White Post, Virginia, where Justin (with the KTM450) lives. We were treated to a hearty dose of southern hospitality, and stayed overnight.
On Sunday morning, we piled into the truck/trailer rig and proceeded to drive about 60 miles south and west to a remote parking spot quite close to the Virginia/West Virginia state line. We unloaded and followed Justin on an 80 mile loop that he had laid out especially for these street legal dirt bikes. Mostly, the route consisted of dirt roads through the national forest, where there was virtually no traffic. We were able to chase each other up and down the mountains on twisty dirt roads with absolute wild abandon, passing and repassing one another while broadsliding the turns. A rare and special treat: ‘fireroading’ as it should be done. The icing on the cake? Endless views to die for. Mountains and valleys intertwined to the horizon. I sat for a half hour just admiring the quiet and the view. I do believe I could see at least 50 miles.
There were a few technical sections, but Justin’s awesome route favored dirt roads, so there were none of the previous day’s pounding rock gardens to contend with. There was also a brief section of WVA route 33, which carves through a pass, 4 lanes wide and steeply banked. It is surprising how far you can lean the bike on street legal knobbies. All in all, the day was one big high speed hoot. I swear my cheek muscles threatened to cramp several times, such was the intensity of my constant grinning. The weather was perfect, the bikes were flawless, and Justin’s route planning was spot on: we made it back to the truck with about one quart of gas left in the tank.
If there are any people out there with street legal dirt bikes, watch for more dual sport rides from Powersports East later this season. The license plate opens a whole range of offroad opportunities that should not be missed. In fact, if we riders continue to shoot ourselves in the foot with stupidly loud exhaust systems and other irresponsible behavior, then there is a good chance that more and more land closures in the future will force anyone interested in off road riding to use a dual sport machine with a license plate. Not to mention that you can ride the thing to work or to the store. Oh ya, did I mention that the mileage is pretty darned good, especially compared to the family car?
We stopped at a little smoke house for barBque before putting the pedal to the metal, arriving home at around 10 o’clock PM on Sunday night. All in all a great weekend: springtime…..and life is good.
Ride report for street rides: Chadd’s Ford Auction, 04-29-07 & Ephrata, 05-06-07
The April ride started with 9 motorcycles. As usual, there was an assortment of machines, including several sport bikes, a brand new KTM Superduke, a few cruisers and a GL. We made our way to Hopewell Furnace, where we stretched our legs while exploring the restored village from the 1800’s. The roads in this area are quite curvy and scenic, and we returned by a different route. The group was partly separated when some riders missed a turn, but the route sheets and maps handed out in the morning enabled us to regroup at the auction, near Painter’s crossing in Chadd’s Ford. The nice thing about the route sheets is that everyone can ride as fast or slow as they like, since they have directions and a map indicating all the places along the way where we wait to rest and regroup.
The auction seemed slightly smaller this year than in years past, but there were several interesting bikes going up on the block, including a Honda factory roadracer from the late 70’s, a really cute BSA , and a mint looking Kawasaki Samurai 2 stroke twin. There was much more, but it was such a fine day, we felt more like riding. Although a few people headed home right from the auction, the rest or us rode another 60 mile loop to the west and south before calling it a day. Oh yes, those who made it to the end were treated to a monster lunch at Enzo’s Italian Eatery.
May’s ride was just one week later, the first Sunday of the month, which marks the Ephrata Gathering of the Bikes. Six bikes made the trek, including me on my ’73 Yamaha TX750 (a rare beast, since most of them blew up long ago), Doug on his KLR 650, Rob on the GSX750, John, up from Dover on his ZX10, Ken on his BMW, and one other sport bike rider. It was a very cool morning, with brilliant sun shine as we wheeled our way north. We kept a good pace and everyone stayed together really well. When we came to one really long stretch of country road, with unlimited visibility, I decided to purge the carbon from my engine, and opened her up pretty good. After the long straight, we slowed for a village, when I heard a siren and spotted lights in my rearviews. I was sure this was going to be a really expensive reminder to obey the speed limit. Much to my surprise, the state trooper just wanted to get a look at my bike, then sent us on with best wishes. I felt like I had dodged a bullet.
At this point, I noticed just me and John, everyone else had disappeared. We waited, but nobody caught up, so we headed for our destination. At Ephrata, we met up with the rest of our group (except Ken) and learned, over a hearty breakfast, that just after the trooper passed them, the ‘back four’ thought it would be a good time to stop for coffee. Also, a good time to change the route. Still at breakfast, I got a cell phone call from Ken. He thought that after the trooper buzzed by, he should head straight home. Once again the integrity of the group was preserved by the route sheets and maps handed out at the start of our rides.
Ephrata was jumping~! I have never seen this many bikes…you literally could not get into the parking lot. As usual, we walked around and around, gaping at all the interesting bikes. I saw a Ford engined 3 wheeler with a steering wheel, a ratty CB350 chopper, an amazingly intricate, technical and artful Suzuki chopper, a Bultaco and an old Ducati single, lots and lots of modern Ducatis, and really, just about every kind of bike you could imagine. We left around 11 and meandered south, arriving back at around 1:30, in time to enjoy the rest of a beautiful Sunday at home with family.
Ride Report: Pocomoke River State Forest 02/24/07
It has been said, “A bad day riding in the dirt is better than a good day doing anything else.” Not that it was a bad day by any means. The sun was out there, and the temperature got up to about 45 for a short while. Conditions were as good as they get in February, with some mud and puddles, but not total submersion of all trails. One little snafu that came up: when I called to check on conditions Wednesday, I was informed that the camp store was no longer open on Saturdays, so trail passes would not be available for sale on site. The Park Police, who like to stop by the parking area to check up on these things were still scheduled to be around, so permits really were needed. Luckily, I was able to reach Marsha at MD DNR. Unlike many government employees, she was willing to be creative in finding a solution. One of our riders lives in Salisbury, and his wife, Holly, was kind enough to go to the courthouse there and leave off a blank check in exchange for 25 permits and application forms. We were then able to collect $15 from each rider and issue the permits. On Monday, Holly turned the money into the state, and everyone is happy. These MD trail use stickers are good until the end of 07, and they allow access to the half dozen or so riding areas scattered around the state, so check out MD DNR on line to learn about the other sites. Oh, one minor detail, we forgot to get the sticker numbers written onto the applications, so I had to chase around, and track down all 25 riders to correct this oversight. At least this enabled me to meet everyone, and see how they were doing. Most everyone had a great time. One exception would be the poor guy with the red hair and ponytail who found a bottomless puddle in the first 15 minutes, and totally dunked his Kawasaki. Water got inside the engine, and he decided to play it safe, and take it apart for a thorough clean out. Actually, I may have found the same puddle. I was riding alone down a secondary trail that had big puddles every 50 or 100 yards. I went across 3 or 4 puddles without incident, but then I rode into one that looked no different from the surface. Under the water, there was one minor difference: about halfway across, the depth changed from 6 inches to 4 feet! One second I was riding across this puddle, and the next second, my bike just dropped out from under me. Of course the engine gulped some water and died, and I jumped off into the (really cold) waist deep water. The tires were stuck in deep mud, and I nearly exploded my back dragging the bike out of there and back onto solid ground. I took the air box apart for draining and dried out the filter as best I could. I kicked it for about 10 minutes and it didn’t even think about starting: there was water inside the muffler clogging things up. I didn’t have the strength to lift the front wheel to drain it out, so I had a seat and just waited. Sure enough, after a little while, I heard engines approaching: 4 big ATVs…maybe I could get some help. I just watched, inwardly amused, as the lead rider plunged into the black hole and promptly sank in up to his seat. He tried buzzing the engine and rocking back and forth, but soon took on some water, killing the motor. I jumped up and helped him connect his winch to a nearby tree, then dry his airbox and lift the front to drain out the exhaust system. Once we got him restarted, I asked for the return favor, and we drained my exhaust, and after a lot more kicking, I was running again. It was great to see so many people turn out, I counted around 35. There were at least three women riding, and half a dozen or more little kids. After 4 or 5 hours of fun in the sun (and water) we headed to Watermans restaurant for a great meal and much bench racing. Only 24 showed for dinner. The rest? Well excepting a few who left early for different reasons, a number of riders were unwilling to stop before nightfall. These would be the guys with modified 4 wheelers, jacked all up like monster trucks, and some with snorkels sticking up into the air for intake and exhaust. The wet and muddy areas that most of us considered as challenging obstacles were, for them, the best reason for being there.
Ride Report: March 11th street ride to Tolchester Beach
Sunday morning’s weather was not promising. Saturday night’s rains may have washed the sand and salt from the roadways, but now they threatened to wash out our ride as well. My hopes for the best all came true, though, as I pulled into the Powersports East parking lot at 10:45 (DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME), there was nothing but deep blue sky all around. I had decided to ride the 1974 Suzuki T500, and as I wheeled into the start point, I spied 3 modern bikes wearing the same brand name: one Hyabusa, one 1200cc naked bike, and a fully faired sport bike. I tried to sneak in between these “big ‘S’ machines”, but 30 years of technological progress caused my 2 stroke to stick out like a sore thumb. Then I noticed a fifth Suzuki which also stood out: a Bergman 650cc scooter. This very motley assortment of Suzuki’s was augmented by a Kawasaki Vulcan and a KTM Duke. Nothing like a bit of variety,eh? We departed on time at 11 AM, and were, somewhat surprisingly, able to follow the route sheet, taking secondary routes to cross the canal at route 301, then turning south to parallel and crisscross the Maryland state line. We continued to enjoy fine, if slightly cool weather as we angled south and west to our initial destination: Tolchester Beach. This road dead ended at the Chesapeake, and we dismounted to stretch after our initial 50 mile leg, and to search for remnants of Tolchester Beach Amusement Park. A web search had revealed an interesting history: during the early 1900’s a steam powered ferry boat transported people from Baltimore to this beach on the bay. These tourists would spend the day at the amusement park and beach, walk the boardwalks and twirl their parasols before boating back to the city. A quick look around revealed nothing more than a few signs announcing the site of the historic amusement park; no rotting roller coasters or anything similar, although a more thorough search might yet turn something up. Next, we headed for Rock Hall, hoping to find food and fuel for my thirsty 2 stroke, which was by now deep into its reserve tank. We found an open gas station about ¾ mile past the bike’s maximum range, which ate up about 15 minutes, then retired to a local eatery for pizza all around, courtesy of the shop. The next stop was the nearby National Wildlife Refuge, where we noticed the water fowl heading north. Hopefully this means spring is near. In addition to some lovely bayside scenery, there were also several interesting historic signs and walking trails some of which are on boardwalks to protect the fragile wetlands. Final stop: Gratitude, Maryland. No more than a tiny spot on my map, still, a village named Gratitude had to have a story behind the name, wouldn’t you think? Again, we followed the road to its very end, up against the bay, and there we spied no village, just some waterfront condos and the “Gratitude Boatyard”. We shed our skidlids and began some serious detective work. Inquiring of a nearby boatyard worker taking advantage of the sunny weather, we were directed to “Dave”; a gnarly old salt who had been around long enough to know these things. Dave revealed the secret of Gratitude, Maryland’s name. Back in ‘the day’ the steamship that ran Baltimore folk up the bay to Tolchester Beach and Amusement Park made a stop here to refuel, while passengers could enjoy a spot of tea or sarsaparillas. The name of the ferry was the SS Gratitude, and so the town took the same name. One day I suppose we’ll need to ride down to Baltimore and find out why the boat was named ‘Gratitude’. Maybe the steamship company was grateful to be making so much money! Time to head towards home, so we cut a path due east, hitting into route 9 in Delaware just after Smyrna. This was familiar ground to most of the riders, and suddenly, I was being passed on all sides at once, as the modern sport bikes hit their stride. Luckily, no one ran over the top of my outclassed relic. I took the opportunity to hang back and cruise with a couple of the more relaxed riders, and enjoyed a most pleasant return north. As we rolled onto highway route one, people began to split off for home and the rider on the Burgman 650 came alive, passing me on the way up to his comfortable 80 mph open road cruising speed! For certain, scooters are not what they used to be. All that speed, and great weather protection as well as voluminous storage capacity, not to mention fantastic mileage. One final surprise came later that night at home. I came across an old photograph that once was hanging in a motorcycle shop in Wilmington called Van Sice Yamaha. Bud Van Sice grew up in that very building which was his father’s shop in the early 1900’s, selling Triumph and Indian before taking on Yamaha after the ‘Japanese Invasion’. The picture shows a long line of Harleys and Indians in front of Rodney Square. There are 30 plus machines, many with sidecars, and their riders and passengers; men with jodhpurs and women in long dresses. At the bottom is the caption: “Motorcycle Ride to Tolchester Beach, June 8, 1922. Now those were the days!
Ride Report from December’s Dirt bike and ATV ride in Zerbe, PA
There had been a wee bit of snow fall at the shop a day or 2 before the ride. This opened the possibility of a good snow base up in the mountains. Also, temperatures were cool, forecasted to hit 40 at the shop, so we were expecting highs around the freezing point further north. George P. and his friend from Lehigh Valley ATV Riders showed up right on time to join Bob and me for an early departure. Somewhat surprisingly, Will was there too, with his KTM 2 stroke motorcycle. Will said he’d be meeting a friend at the ride site, and he wanted to try dirt biking in the snow….. Brave or foolish? Upon arrival, it quickly became apparent that the snow would be a big factor. We had to gun the trucks and plow our way through about 6 inches of powder to get to the parking area. We met Will’s friend and unloaded and suited up. In the process, I managed to run over our trailer tongue, busting the hitch latch. It was buried out of sight in the snow, and I was just fishtailing around the pits, getting a feel for the conditions. Meanwhile, Will and his friend, on two wheelers were getting a feel for the conditions with their entire bodies, as riding in the snow, with icy rocks and roots out of sight just below the surface proved to be a bit much. We divided into 2 groups straight away, with the 2 two wheelers opting to explore around the trucks so as to better evaluate their ability to maintain headway and control. The four riders on 4 wheelers headed out to explore on an “easy loop” towards the coal dust piles, where hill climbing is wonderful entertainment under normal conditions. As it turned out, the 2 of us on sport quads were bogging down a bit, so we sent the 2 heavy 4 wheel drive machines to the front to break trail. In this way, we were able to maintain a reasonable head of steam, and we slithered our way through the lovely snow covered pines. We stopped briefly at the big hill climbs, where the locals hang out, and tried a few of the easier hills. Once ruts were cut in the snow, the black coal dust began absorbing the brilliant sun shine, causing melting and affording good traction. There was even a snowmobile out there, running around with the ATV’s. Onward to “Permission Hill”, but we could not get permission this day to climb it, so made a difficult water crossing to follow an old railway bed back to the pits. Will and friend were still at it but promptly announced that they would be leaving early, due the impracticality of the conditions. Meanwhile, we 4 four wheelers had a quick lunch and headed of in new directions for another long loop through the overgrown strip mine valley that leads to Shamokin. We returned from this loop at around 3:30, leaving time for one more loop, the best of the day. We blasted at good speed, sport quads first, down a long 2 track that had been packed down thoroughly by locals on heavy quads. This led us finally to the head of “The Lost Trail of Zerbe” which runs through switchbacks for a mile down a very steep grade, leading to an entirely separate trail system which includes the infamous “Rock Gardens” and a small MX track. We paused at the top to consider the steep trail and the late hour. We knew we would be able to get down. Getting back up looked a bit iffy. I decided that the snow seemed less deep under the trees, and went for it. Naturally, everyone followed. By the time all four met at the bottom, the ruts were pronounced enough that I felt confident about climbing back up, so I turned around and headed on up. It was easy, save for one steep step near the top, and we slithered and plowed our way back through fresh powder to the trucks. Everyone loved this last, high speed loop. Finally, we loaded up, and the broken trailer latch was discovered. We were able to secure it with vice grips tied in place with zip lock nylon tie straps, and drove down to Pottsville (the home of Yuengling Beer) where we dined royally at the local Friday’s. Returning home by 9:30, I felt that the day was very satisfying for everyone on ATV’s. We experienced some excellent winter riding conditions, and the snow always makes the landscape seem especially lovely. As for the guys on bikes, they vowed to return with studded tires, which should make for much better tractability. Bob suggested that without the 4 wheel drive machine to break trail, we might not have had so much fun on our sport quads, so thanks to George and friend for providing ice breaker service.
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