Expect some changes ‘around here. I’m gettin’ weary of the pirate motif, I still dig my Gravatar but I’m getting’ that wanderlust again. All this motorcycle talk I reckon.
I’ll still be sailin’ and campin’ on available weekends - weather permitting. But the heart in yer throat, gleam in yer eye call of high horsepower to weight ratios is becoming unbearable.
I’ve been good – I sported my bride around Tennessee on the Mothership, I took my girls on maritime adventures – but, well, ya' see....
I spotted this GL1800 a half mile ahead of me on the parkway yesterday. Ol' Big Red just grabbed my right wrist and twisted it WFO. The geezerglide was in the process of passing someone as I closed on it. The hairs on the back of that old man's neck must have stood right up, cause he gunned it. Been watchin’ too much Orange County Hospital,er... choppers I reckon. Why, I had to shift into 3rd gear to make the ‘whump’ sound as I went by!
Ouch.
Bet that left a mark.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Guest Blogger - The New Guy : Riding the Dragon and other goings on
After waiting about an hour or so for Jim and his lovely wife, following Rainman we moved on towards Knoxville (which we were supposed to have passed hours ago) in order to get to Gatlinburg. After leaving Richmond at 9:15 AM we arrived in Gatlinburg at 5:30 to check into a chalet for a night so the 9 of us could have an enjoyable evening together before attempting to tame the Dragon on Saturday. Upon checking in we discovered that the original cost that was quoted to us had hidden charges that amounted to an extra hundred dollars, we decided to go ahead and get the place we had called about and take our chances on it being worth the money we were about to spend.
Rainman and his lovely wife, Big Yamaha,
After moving around a bit to check out our new environment we found that Robinsonville and his young bride had caught up with us (they left the Paris area about 2:00 PM and were there by 6:00 PM.). Tim and Jill settled in and then the 4 biker MEN decided to go down the mountain a bit to pick up some refreshments for the night, off we rode.
The guys bought all that we though might be consumed that night and moved back to our love nest (I us that term for Rainmain) so we could decide on dinner arrangements.
The group decided that we would like a steak so down the mountain we descended to Peddlers to get a great steak, salad and to watch 2 women make out on the porch in front of us. We all ate dinner then rode back up the mountain to the Love Nest
Upon returning the Love Nest the guys went down stairs to play pool and watch TV while the women built a fire because they were cold and enjoyed a movie on the 1st floor.
Rainman and The New Guy took on Robinsonville and Big Yamaha and was no match for the Luck that Robinsonville spilled onto the table so they beat the pants off of Rainman (which worked out great for him) and The New Guy.
Rainman and his lovely wife, Big Yamaha,
(ed - we generally don't refer to each other's wives as "Big" anything. Not sure what he's getting at here...)and his lovely wife, and The New Guy trekked up the mountain Ober Gatlinburg to find our new found love nest and to our surprise we found a place that was worthy of every penny we had spent for it. The place had a bedroom for everyone, hot tug, Jacuzzi bath, fire place, pool table and more, if you are looking for a place to stay in Gatlinburg call the ERA rental office and get the Stagecoach Stop, and you will truly enjoy it.
After moving around a bit to check out our new environment we found that Robinsonville and his young bride had caught up with us (they left the Paris area about 2:00 PM and were there by 6:00 PM.). Tim and Jill settled in and then the 4 biker MEN decided to go down the mountain a bit to pick up some refreshments for the night, off we rode.
The guys bought all that we though might be consumed that night and moved back to our love nest (I us that term for Rainmain) so we could decide on dinner arrangements.
The group decided that we would like a steak so down the mountain we descended to Peddlers to get a great steak, salad and to watch 2 women make out on the porch in front of us. We all ate dinner then rode back up the mountain to the Love Nest
Upon returning the Love Nest the guys went down stairs to play pool and watch TV while the women built a fire because they were cold and enjoyed a movie on the 1st floor.
Rainman and The New Guy took on Robinsonville and Big Yamaha and was no match for the Luck that Robinsonville spilled onto the table so they beat the pants off of Rainman (which worked out great for him) and The New Guy.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
And Now, The Rest of the Story....
Having safely negotiated the exit we headed off down some very nice back roads. The apparent temperature dropped immediately and we welcomed the cooler air. We commenced winding our way South at a steady minimum pucker factor pace (we brought the women, OK?!). As a group these guys are pretty fast cruiser riders and most cruiser riders with less than many thousand miles of asphalt under their tires find it unnerving to try and keep up. I generally ride my GPz and run off and leave ‘em without trying, but this day I had my hands full on the ½-ton Mothership negotiating switchbacks with these grizzled graying proto-squids.
We came to a stop sign and Rainman made it clear he was going to need fuel soon. All concurred and we pulled into the nearest store with pumps, a grocery/hardware store/fuel stop.
Two things should have set off alarm bells.
1) The clerk was having major trouble operating the computer/cash register/ scanner machine. He was getting it done, but man he was slow. Not halting but SLOW like he was overloaded.
2) There was a tanker truck in the lot. NEVER, EVER, EVER buy fuel when there is a fuel delivery being made. At best the fuel in the bottom of the tank is old and dirty, at worst the new stuff has kicked up all the sediment from the bottom and you just pumped it into your tank.
3) I was thinking, “Man the ol’ Mothership sure is runnin’ great!”
We all partook of refreshments inside, Sundrop!, and saddled up. The road got really twisty from here on and 180 degree switchbacks with 10 foot elevation changes were the order of the day. While merrily negotiating some of these the Mothership backfires, clears and goes on. Hmmmmm. A few miles later and the same thing occurs but this time it slowly sputtered to a halt. Shit!
I noticed I had extremely dim indicator lights on the dash. No power. Frank came back and borrowed Jumper cables from a nearby house and hooked ‘em to his RoadStar which was starting to backfire from bad gas. We got the Mothership running and I took off for a gas station the fellas had spotted up ahead. While I was running for the station before it died again my jacket fell off the back. No biggie the rest are right behind me, they’ll get it.
I made it to the station and when they pulled in behind there was no sign of the jacket. I commented it was odd someone would be that quick driving by snatching something like that. Apparently not. As my wife and I were waiting for the tow truck we saw a boat being hauled by when a cushion fell out. Immediately the car next car slowed and the driver snatched it off the pavement without even stopping. Must be the local income generating activity. Next to ‘earning’ disability that is.
We had taken a wrong turn, well…. Rainman had, and ended up northeast of Knoxville in Maynardville, TN. Folks I am not exaggerating when I tell ya’ the menfolk looked like OakRidge had dumped nuclear waste in the area. They all had a blank, tilted look, at least one limb twisted or held oddly, gimped in some way, and plenty of tattoos. They were scaring my wife, so I reminded her I had eight .45s in each magazine and one in the pipe with which to play zombie killer if the opportunity presented itself. No such luck.
The other riders in our group deserted us like the heartless bastards I know them to be. (Actually, I had a hell of a time gettin’ ‘em to leave. I think Frank just wanted to see the .45 again.). People in Maynardville talk like they live 50 miles out of Knoxville, them what talks that is. We found we were about 10miles out if that. We completed our three hour wait for the incompetent tow truck driver and grabbed a motel in Knoxville. Next day we got a rental car and came home to get the trailer to bring the Mothership home.
I have to say I have yet to see a more dim, unfriendly, put off, bunch of ‘tards as what occupies east Tennessee in all my born days. Welldigger spoke thusly of these folk in the past and I discounted it as disgust with a particular person or small group colouring his perception, I was wrong. I know a lot of country folk, hell I AM country folk! I know a lot of hill folk, too, and most would give the shirt off their backs to help someone in need and most are a fair hand mechanically. But these sons of bitches just look at ya’ with those “no one’s home” glass eyes. I don’t sense they got much more than plant level awareness going on. If I ever happen there again I‘ll shoot the first hobblin' cocksucker looks at me that way and figure a ride by shootin’ and a drive by thievin’ makes us even.
The rest of the group had a good, though wet ride. I don’t suppose I can get any of ‘em to write their travelin’ up as they don’t go in for such highbrow doin’s.
Everything above is gospel and you'll go to hell for disputin' it.
We came to a stop sign and Rainman made it clear he was going to need fuel soon. All concurred and we pulled into the nearest store with pumps, a grocery/hardware store/fuel stop.
Two things should have set off alarm bells.
1) The clerk was having major trouble operating the computer/cash register/ scanner machine. He was getting it done, but man he was slow. Not halting but SLOW like he was overloaded.
2) There was a tanker truck in the lot. NEVER, EVER, EVER buy fuel when there is a fuel delivery being made. At best the fuel in the bottom of the tank is old and dirty, at worst the new stuff has kicked up all the sediment from the bottom and you just pumped it into your tank.
3) I was thinking, “Man the ol’ Mothership sure is runnin’ great!”
We all partook of refreshments inside, Sundrop!, and saddled up. The road got really twisty from here on and 180 degree switchbacks with 10 foot elevation changes were the order of the day. While merrily negotiating some of these the Mothership backfires, clears and goes on. Hmmmmm. A few miles later and the same thing occurs but this time it slowly sputtered to a halt. Shit!
I noticed I had extremely dim indicator lights on the dash. No power. Frank came back and borrowed Jumper cables from a nearby house and hooked ‘em to his RoadStar which was starting to backfire from bad gas. We got the Mothership running and I took off for a gas station the fellas had spotted up ahead. While I was running for the station before it died again my jacket fell off the back. No biggie the rest are right behind me, they’ll get it.
I made it to the station and when they pulled in behind there was no sign of the jacket. I commented it was odd someone would be that quick driving by snatching something like that. Apparently not. As my wife and I were waiting for the tow truck we saw a boat being hauled by when a cushion fell out. Immediately the car next car slowed and the driver snatched it off the pavement without even stopping. Must be the local income generating activity. Next to ‘earning’ disability that is.
We had taken a wrong turn, well…. Rainman had, and ended up northeast of Knoxville in Maynardville, TN. Folks I am not exaggerating when I tell ya’ the menfolk looked like OakRidge had dumped nuclear waste in the area. They all had a blank, tilted look, at least one limb twisted or held oddly, gimped in some way, and plenty of tattoos. They were scaring my wife, so I reminded her I had eight .45s in each magazine and one in the pipe with which to play zombie killer if the opportunity presented itself. No such luck.
The other riders in our group deserted us like the heartless bastards I know them to be. (Actually, I had a hell of a time gettin’ ‘em to leave. I think Frank just wanted to see the .45 again.). People in Maynardville talk like they live 50 miles out of Knoxville, them what talks that is. We found we were about 10miles out if that. We completed our three hour wait for the incompetent tow truck driver and grabbed a motel in Knoxville. Next day we got a rental car and came home to get the trailer to bring the Mothership home.
I have to say I have yet to see a more dim, unfriendly, put off, bunch of ‘tards as what occupies east Tennessee in all my born days. Welldigger spoke thusly of these folk in the past and I discounted it as disgust with a particular person or small group colouring his perception, I was wrong. I know a lot of country folk, hell I AM country folk! I know a lot of hill folk, too, and most would give the shirt off their backs to help someone in need and most are a fair hand mechanically. But these sons of bitches just look at ya’ with those “no one’s home” glass eyes. I don’t sense they got much more than plant level awareness going on. If I ever happen there again I‘ll shoot the first hobblin' cocksucker looks at me that way and figure a ride by shootin’ and a drive by thievin’ makes us even.
The rest of the group had a good, though wet ride. I don’t suppose I can get any of ‘em to write their travelin’ up as they don’t go in for such highbrow doin’s.
Everything above is gospel and you'll go to hell for disputin' it.
Ride Report : The Dragon that Wasn't
The Mothership is up for sale and old men are beatin' my door down for it so I thought I would take it out w/ the wife one last time. That's what it's for after all.
We planned a ride with the womenfolk leaving Friday morning for Deal's Gap so we met up on I75 and turned South on HWY25. Two lanes are generally more fun even on the Mothership.
We stopped in Corbin at TriCounty Cycles to look at the Iron Horse bikes there and that buttugly Honda Rune. Actually, The rest of 'em went inside while I stayed with the bikes repairing the intercom cable my wife chewed in two. OK, she didn't actually CHEW it. Near as I can tell she closed her helmet hinge on it. Got it working, though, with the donation of some electrical tape from a salesman. Trip Saved!
Back on the road we hit stoplight hell and bailed to the interstate. Ahhh! The open road. I put her on 90 and the rest of the group sorta kept up with the newest rider, Dave, doing nicely on my six. As we neared Knoxville I slowed to close ranks and let Rainman, who professed to know a better way to Gatlinburg, lead. Rainman immediately wedged himself into trafic. Now, I've ridden a lot with him and know his habits so I stayed just behind the cluster of cars/trucks he had wedged himself into preparing to exit.
This is an art so pay attention:
Wait for it.... wait..wait.... There he goes! Rainman dove across two lanes of traffic for the exit with me on his taillight. Dave and Frank were out in the cold, but managed via a death defying maneuver in front of an 18 wheeler to make the exit.
The ulimate payoff didn't materialise with cellphone calls and ridicule to the lost wandering exit missers as they try to find the rest of the group. However, Dave and Frank definately had the BUGEYES (see image) as we came to a stop at the end of the exit ramp!
More to follow. I have to clue folks in on the freaks Digger warned me about in east Tennessee.
We planned a ride with the womenfolk leaving Friday morning for Deal's Gap so we met up on I75 and turned South on HWY25. Two lanes are generally more fun even on the Mothership.
We stopped in Corbin at TriCounty Cycles to look at the Iron Horse bikes there and that buttugly Honda Rune. Actually, The rest of 'em went inside while I stayed with the bikes repairing the intercom cable my wife chewed in two. OK, she didn't actually CHEW it. Near as I can tell she closed her helmet hinge on it. Got it working, though, with the donation of some electrical tape from a salesman. Trip Saved!
Back on the road we hit stoplight hell and bailed to the interstate. Ahhh! The open road. I put her on 90 and the rest of the group sorta kept up with the newest rider, Dave, doing nicely on my six. As we neared Knoxville I slowed to close ranks and let Rainman, who professed to know a better way to Gatlinburg, lead. Rainman immediately wedged himself into trafic. Now, I've ridden a lot with him and know his habits so I stayed just behind the cluster of cars/trucks he had wedged himself into preparing to exit.
This is an art so pay attention:
The object of the game is to not be so close to the leader that you miss the exit, too, but close enough that some of the other's miss it as they struggle to close ranks through traffic.
Wait for it.... wait..wait.... There he goes! Rainman dove across two lanes of traffic for the exit with me on his taillight. Dave and Frank were out in the cold, but managed via a death defying maneuver in front of an 18 wheeler to make the exit.
The ulimate payoff didn't materialise with cellphone calls and ridicule to the lost wandering exit missers as they try to find the rest of the group. However, Dave and Frank definately had the BUGEYES (see image) as we came to a stop at the end of the exit ramp!More to follow. I have to clue folks in on the freaks Digger warned me about in east Tennessee.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)