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Today is an historic day. Just like all others. But today is rather special, because it marks the return of the Just One More Mile blog. For those not familiar with this blog, it's a place where I share my thoughts, dreams, plans and adventures. Originally the blog was intended to act as a record of our (that's my wife, Tracy and me, Paul) journey around the world, originally scheduled to start in 2008. Life has a habit of de-railing the best-laid plans and so ours turned into a journey of another kind, as recorded in the original blogs which you can find on the main website. Now is the time to once again dream of a new challenge. If you want to follow our travels, this is where you can do so. We hope you enjoy the ride!
As is so often the case, the best
laid plans of mice and men, and me, seems to go awry. This time it's hurricane
Florence that is wreaking havoc with my plans, or rather those of my good
friend Aaron who has organised our latest adventure.
Once a year he organises a motorcycle trip
from his dealerships in Florida to Nova Scotia in north east Canada. I've been
trying to get myself on one of these trips for years, but due to the pressure
of running our motorcycle training business haven't been able to make it work.
This year we took the momentous decision to close the school and
"retire" in order to take full advantage of such opportunities, and
so I signed up and booked my flights. I depart early tomorrow morning, flying
via Philadelphia to Tampa to hook up with Aaron ready for Saturday's departure.
The original plan was to catch the auto train up to close to Washington DC to
avoid a lot of less interesting
riding and to get us north quickly. Only
Florence has decided to batter the east coast of the US and caused Amtrack to cancel the train.
So now it looks like we will have a few long days on the highways as we try to get things back on track (no
pun intended!).
But that's all for later. For now, I've been packing and getting ready to go. Upstairs in the
bedroom my big yellow bag is packed with bike boots, gloves and my Kriega pannier bag full of the clothes I'll need for the
trip, all packed and ready to go. All ready for
tomorrow. And I'm rather excited!
As always there are a couple of things I need to do before then, though, and that
includes taking my 3-yearly RoSPA Diploma re-test,
which is arranged for this afternoon at 1pm. I just hope that I can keep my
mind on the job at hand and not start day-dreaming of my new adventure!
An early start to get to the
airport the mandatory 3 hours early, with Tracy giving me a lift and putting up
with me ranting about my RoSPA re-test yesterday
taking 3.5hours due to the examiner wanting to share lots of stories with me
(when all I wanted to do was get it over with so I could get home and get
ready!). She really does have a lot to put up with!
Once dropped off at the airport I passed
through check-in/bag drop off remarkably quickly and then positively flew
through security. All this meant that I had lots of time to kill and nothing
much to do. I'd already had breakfast before leaving so avoided ruining my diet
before I'd even got to the States, although I did treat myself to a bag of
sweets for the flight. The flight to Philadelphia boarded without drama and was
largely uneventful save for a small interruption to eat a poor cottage pie. I
watched a couple of films - Deadpool 2, Early Man and Solo - which was made
much harder by the terrible connection on the headphones which meant all I
could really hear was a high-pitched screaming. I checked, and it wasn't coming
from the old lady sat next to me. I avoided the snack brought prior to landing,
and then made my way through to the extremely long queue at US Immigration.
With some 60 gates available where operatives can interview people wanting to
enter the US, they manned only 4 or 5, so this took a while. When it was
finally my turn I floundered at the first question
purpose of visit
, trying to get all my words out in one rush - why is it that
authority figures such as these always make me feel guilty even when I've done
nothing wrong?! But it must be fairly normal because after a little chit-chat I
was free to pass on to baggage claim and get my bag, then drag it through a cursory
customs check before handing it over to another
baggage handler to be placed on the Tampa flight. By now I was well in to the
2-hour lay-over period before my next flight and so my heart sank when I saw
the size of the queue at the security check point. It would
appear that no-one designing airport layouts has yet considered that
when a plane carrying 500 people arrives, they will all reach each stage
of the process together. Having 2 security lines working (out of 5) at these
times will lead to delays. Fortunately, I managed to
get through it with just enough time for a brisk walk - not easy with a dodgy
knee - to the gate and straight on to the plane to Tampa. Another 5 minutes and
I'd have missed it altogether.
This
flight was also fairly uneventful, with not even a meal service to break up the
nearly 3 hour monotony, but on arrival the sky was
flashing with great bursts of lightning. The first announcement after parking
up was that due to the lightning they couldn't bring the ramp to the plane,
meaning we would have to stay put, but this turned out to be a false alarm and
we all disembarked eventually. Once at the baggage carousel I met up with Aaron
and we chatted whilst waiting for my bag to appear. Or any bags to appear. Then
there was an announcement saying that due to the lightning the bags couldn't be
unloaded from the plane and suggesting we go get dinner and come back later, or come back tomorrow. So we
did just that, heading out into a torrential downpour to Aaron's Tesla Model X
(all very fancy!) and into St Petersburg, where we met up with Mira who was driving
their wonderful-sounding BMW M2. Dinner was at a Mexican restaurant and I was
extremely sensible ordering a Tequila-flavoured king prawn salad. And a very
large glass of Mexican beer. Well, I am on holiday!
After dinner we took a short drive to Arron's
place, windows down so we could hear Mira accelerating away from every set of
lights in the M2. The silent Tesla not distracting from the aural delight. Back
at the house I had the guided tour and it is, without doubt, one of the most
fantastic properties I've ever had the luxury of staying at. But I won't break
any secrets by revealing more, suffice to say I can't think of a nicer or more worthy couple to have such a place.
Before turning in we watched the electric storm
across the bay from their terrace, a perfect end to the first day of my latest adventure.
After a most fitful night's sleep,
where I woke from vivid dreams of Aaron's Tesla driving itself and getting
struck by lightning, I finally crawled from bed just after 6am, a solid 9 hours
after turning in. If they had been 9 hours of sleep, I would have been totally
rested and fully refreshed. But they weren't, although the extremely powerful
shower did a good job of restoring some sense of feeling alive.
With no fresh clothes to put on, I think the
shower may have been wasted, but with my bag still at the airport there was
nothing else to do. After watching the sun rise over the bay (I told you this
place was special!), and speaking to Tracy on FaceTime, Aaron and I headed out,
me riding a Ducati Multistrada 1260 and him leading
in the Tesla. A quick stop for breakfast and fuel for the bike and then we were
at the airport, where I collected my bag without fuss. Then it was on to his
Tampa dealership, where he got on with some work whilst I caught up with things
back home and booked my hotel room for our TransAM reunion in November when Aaron is over in the UK.
I also got to try on the Klim Badlands Pro suit that is part of my reason for being here.
This is a very well made riding suit designed specifically for adventure
riding, and whilst this particular trip may not put it to the test fully, the
trip next year most certainly will. First impressions are that it is (a) heavy
- but not as heavy as my Rukka jacket and (b) fits
very well indeed. I was also delighted to find myself fitting into the size 34"
trousers - I really have lost quite a bit of weight!
After a business lunch at a local Mellow Mushroom
restaurant famous for its pizza
(I had a Caesar salad) we returned to
the dealership and then grabbed our gear before returning to Aaron's, this time
me riding his BMW R1200GS so it's ready for tomorrow. With all my gear now
available, I've had time to re-pack stuff into the bag I'll be taking and will
shortly be heading for another shower and to get changed ready to go out and
eat again. This evening we're going out with some of Aaron and Mira's friends
for dinner then on to the movies. See, I'm already turning American. Awesome!
This evening was typical of evenings I spend with Aaron, meeting some great people and sharing stories over food, feeling totally relaxed and welcomed. Dinner was a fully loaded burger, so I'll have to make amends tomorrow by not eating too much or my new Klim suit won't fit! The movie we went to see was the latest in the Predator franchise, and the only remarkable thing about it was the seats in the movie theatre, which were single electric recliners which were more comfortable than the couch I have at home! No wonder Mira fell asleep during the film!
Today was scheduled to be a short
ride to the railway station at Sanford to catch the auto-train to Lorton up
north near Washington D.C., and then whiling away 17 hours as the train took
the strain. Only hurricane Florence has put paid to that idea, with the train
being cancelled. So we're faced with 3 long days
riding in order to by-pass the storm and get up North to where the good riding
is (although there is good riding between Florida and where we re-join the
original route, the time challenge means we have to take the highways).
A 5:45am alarm call woke me up from a much
better sleep than the previous night, my dreams barely disturbed by the gore of
the Predator movie. A quick shower and a glass of water then loading the bike
I'm riding with my stuff before wishing Mira goodbye as we rode off into the
darkness, departing before sun up at 6:34am. The bike I'm riding is Mira's BMW
R1200GS, which is lowered, but with the suspension set for 2-up (i.e. raised)
and the seat on the higher setting it's surprisingly comfortable.
Leaving St. Petersburg we met up with Jeremy, one of Aaron's Sales
Managers and the guy I'll be sharing a room with, then hit the highways for 100
miles or so before meeting up with Ram (short for Ramkishan) and Dean for breakfast. After a couple of eggs (over easy)
and some very sweet unsweetened ice tea, we hit to
highway once more, heading towards Atlanta.
Now I'd like to say that riding 600 miles on US highways is interesting
and enjoyable, but the honest truth is, it isn't. It's
boring. Very boring. Even with my music on and stopping every 100 miles for a
fluid adjustment stop
(drink 1 litre cold water -
you can work out the other part!), it's dull. Most of the route to Atlanta has
little to keep the mind occupied, with a straight flat road and a big sky with
hardly any clouds. Temperatures of 90+ F ( I need to
change Mira's instrument panel to read Celcius!) put
the new Klim suit's ventilation to the test and it
works remarkably well. Until we get to Atlanta and the traffic jam that crawled
for 30 miles through the city, and this was still the interstate. Once clear of
Atlanta the scenery got more interesting with rolling hills and a forest either
side of the road. The traffic thinned and we were once again flying in
formation, but by now we were desperately trying to find ways to alleviate the
sore parts, constantly adjusting riding position, standing up, stretching, etc.
It's on roads like these that you realise the true benefit of cruise control on
a motorcycle, simply set the speed and then you can adjust your position as you
try desperately to find one that reduces pressure on the parts of your body
that are now screaming in pain!
After 12 long hours we finally reached Chatttanooga, our
destination for the day, where we filled up with fuel and checked in to the
Holiday Inn. There was no sign of the choo-choo, nor the cat that chewed my new
shoes, but the restaurant next door had some very good beer and a very nice
grilled chicken salad. Now back at the hotel and with the clock showing just
half-past nine, it's time for an early night. We've another 600-mile day tomorrow,
but as Aaron isn't a morning person, it's a 7:30am departure. I'm promised some
more scenic views from the highway, but it's another day of covering big miles
to get the start of the trip proper. Based on today's experience, I'm going to
love it either way, as despite the monotony of the riding and the lack of
inspiring scenery, just spending 12 hours in the saddle riding with friends old
and new, it's been a great day!p.s. For
those wondering about a lack of photos, trust me, today was not a day for
photos. Besides, my helmet camera is playing up, saying the memory card is full
when it isn't. I will try to get some pictures tomorrow!
After a really good night's sleep - for me, at least, Jeremy, who I'm sharing a room
with may not agree as I snore! - I woke with cramp at 6:18am, just ten minutes
before the alarm was due to go off. Hobbling into the bathroom and a warm
shower got rid of the cramp and I was once again wide awake and ready to go
riding. After packing I had time to grab some porridge for breakfast before the
7:30am kickstands up
departure time.
The weather was overcast and once again we were on the road as the sun
rose, the temperature cool but not at all unpleasant. The day was another long
ride with around 600 miles of highway to cover, so as with yesterday this was
broken up into sections of around 100 miles before we would stop for fuel and
fluid adjustment. The first stint was in the cool early morning and the riding
similar to yesterday, long straight roads with little to
stimulate the senses. After the first stop the rain started so the second stint
was spent squinting through the spray as the rain poured down. This was the
edge of hurricane Florence, which was responsible for us having to ride rather
than getting the train, so we didn't escape its wrath completely. As we
progressed further east via Knoxville the scenery started to improve, with rolling
tree-covered hills and even some curves on the highway to make life more
interesting. After the second stop the rain abated a little and from then on it
was only intermittent, and the views improved as we rode for mile after mile
surrounded by forest. In West Virginia we stopped for lunch at a steakhouse
favoured by Aaron for its warm bread rolls (which were truly delicious) but
that meant I over-ate (a Philly steak sandwich with fries) and for the rest of
the afternoon regretted it as my shrunken stomach struggled to digest so many
carbs.
The rest of the afternoon was
more of the same, using the cruise control to try and hold a steady pace and
following the group as we continued at a steady 75mph, simply pounding out the
miles. As with yesterday, I rode at the back so Aaron who was leading could see
the distinctive lights on Mira's bike and know the group was all together. This
gave me the benefit of being able to ride at my own pace, dropping off the back
of the group when I wanted more space and playing catch up to alleviate the
monotony.
After around 12 hours of
riding we passed through Pittsburgh and found a hotel just past town where we
checked in before showering and heading to the Italian restaurant next door for
dinner. As I was still stuffed from lunch I only had a
prawn salad and a couple of bottles of beer. Another day done and now we are
getting closer to what should have been the start of the trip. Tomorrow we head
further North to the Great Lakes, before turning east and on to our hotel at
Lake Placid, via Niagra Falls. It promises to be
another great day!
Today is the final day of the big
push to get where we should have been had the auto-train not been cancelled,
with the small matter of 570 miles to go to get to our original Monday night
hotel at Lake Placid. In practice, what this meant was a very early start which
consisted of breakfast at McDonald's (yuk!) whilst outside was still pitch
black, then leaving town before sun up.
But what a sun-up it was. As we rode north on the interstate the sky
changed from a deep dark blue to a very faint pale blue whilst over to our
right (east) the high cotton-wool like clouds showed up with dark brown tops
and fire-bright oranges underneath. Simply beautiful and what a pleasure to be
on the road so early and seeing this whilst most sensible folk were still
tucked up in bed! The interstate took us up to the edge of the great lakes - in
this case Lake Erie where we left the interstate and took the local road along
the shore-line and past wooden houses with large front lawns bordering the
lake, past endless fields of vines unlike any I've seen before with huge
amounts of leaves to help capture the sun and ripen the grapes. This finally
gave way to the town of Buffalo, where massive derelict dockyard buildings
stood crumbling in the sunshine. Over a couple of large bridges and we arrived
at Niagara Falls, where we parked up and went exploring, taking photos of the
waterfalls and then buying a fridge magnet (my souvenir of choice!) from the
gift shop and getting ready to depart less than 45 minutes after arriving.
After all, as Aaron said we have a place to get to!
.
Only he was caught out departing the car park by a barrier system that seemed
to have a mind of its own. It rose as he arrived, then came down quickly just
as he was passing, clouting him hard on the head and shoulder, but not enough for
him to drop the bike, the barrier coming off second best and breaking!
Fortunately, it was only made of poor quality wood and there
was no-one around to apprehend him, so we made our escape without further
problem!
The ride from Niagara
Falls and back via Buffalo onto the interstate for a further 150 miles or
so was by far the most boring of the trip. It was a real slog and I was feeling
decidedly in need of a break when we finally pulled off the Interstate to get
fuel. I thought I was the only one feeling the pain of the
ride, but Dean, Jeremy, Ram and Aaron were all bitching about it as soon as we
stopped! When people think of boring American roads, I think this stretch is
what they have in mind!
Fortunately, after just another 70 miles of Interstate we turned off onto better roads for
the final 130-odd miles to the hotel. This stretch was beautiful, the roads
gently swinging left and right through forests of trees that were showing the
early signs of autumn, with patches of bright orange and deep brown in amongst
the greens. It should have been a very enjoyable ride, but to be honest, the
pain in my back, my knee, my ears (from the earplugs) and the tiredness
conspired together to rob it of much joy. So it was a
great relief to reach the town of Lake Placid, home of the Winter Olympics in
1932 and 1980 and the location of our hotel. Here we met the remainder of our
group - Daryl, Don and Grant who had all left Florida a day before us and taken
the more scenic route whilst skirting the hurricane; and Kenny and Sharif who
are native Nova Scotians joining us to show us the delights of their province.
So now we are 10 - with 8 BMW GS's, one BMW S1000XR (Ram) and one Ducati Multistrada (Grant).
After checking in and a quick shower we grabbed a beer in the bar before
heading to a local restaurant for dinner, where we were all introduced by Aaron
- who pointed out that whilst he's ridden with a few of the group more
frequently than others, it's me with whom he's ridden the most miles. This got
me thinking and I tried to work it out - with the TransAM
(23,000 miles), UK & Ireland (3,000), TAT (6,000) - that's over 30,000
miles we've ridden together. This trip will add a further 5,000 miles, which
will take the total to over 35,000 miles - quite something!
After dinner we returned to the hotel, but I was
too tired to complete the blog, so I just made a few notes and collapsed into
bed.
After 1,750 miles in 3 days, the
trip proper starts today, but not with a hearty breakfast as Aaron has warned
us the brunch stop is particularly good (and it's supposed to be my fasting day
anyway!). Once again I woke early, with the 7:30am
departure still over 1.5 hours away. Despite this I got up and packed
then met up with almost the whole group loading the bikes in the car park, all
eager to get riding again. A quick FaceTime with Tracy and a small coffee and
we hit the road again.
After fueling up we left Lake Placid and followed highway 86
before turning south skirting the shores of Lake Champlain then north again on
highway 100. At some point along this route we stopped for fuel then again
after around 200 miles for brunch, at the General Store in Pittsfield, where I was
able to get a decent cup of tea and some oatmeal (like porridge) for
breakfast/lunch. Then it was a short, but beautiful and twisty, ride to the Ben
& Jerry's factory where we took the factory tour, listened to some very
bad cow jokes (Why do cows not wear flip-flops or sandals?
- because they
lack-toes!
; why do cows wear bells?
- because their horns don't work!
),
and had a sample of ice cream (which was worth the $4
entrance fee). Then it was a short ride to an apple cider farm/factory where their
speciality is apple/cinnamon donuts, which are very nice; and another short
ride to the maple syrup farm where I bought a very small urn of syrup to take
home. From here it was just 70 miles or so to the hotel, with more twisty roads
and short sections of interstate completing a great day's riding.
The hotel in Littleton, the Thayers Inn, dates from 1843 and our room (actually 2
adjoining bedrooms with a shared bathroom) is on the top floor. After dumping
our gear in the hotel and parking the bikes round the back I took a quick
shower and washed my smalls - I only have a few pairs and there's a long time
to go yet! Before we headed out to the local brew pub, the Schilling, where I
had a couple of pints (American sizes, much smaller than UK ones) of the rather
excellent Resilience brewery's Pompadour and a margarita pizza with jalapenos -
not exactly a fasting day, but I am on holiday!
Another day begins with me waking
up well in advance of the alarm clock, but fortunately this time not 4 hours
before, just the one… Still, that close to get-up time it's hardly worth going
back to sleep, so I got up and showered, then caught up with events at home
whilst packing my bags and getting ready for the off. But today is a late
start, with a meet in the hotel lobby at 8am, followed by a short walk to the
Topic of the town
café for breakfast. Which took a while, as this is an
old-school mom and pop
place, with a great, cheap, menu and home-cooked food.
The two eggs over easy on toast with sausage links and an English breakfast
tea
was very good, although as is often the case in the US, I couldn't get my
order in without being asked a question (in this case, I asked for the sausage
but forget to mention links as they also do patties!). It was therefore quite late
by the time we got on the bikes and started rolling, but with only 259 miles to
do today that wasn't a problem.
The ride
out of town was beautiful, the old white wooden church building resplendent in
the weak sunshine from the overcast sky. Once clear of town we had a nice
gentle winding ride on roads bordered by trees that changed from deep greens to
bright orange and made our way up towards the mist-covered hillsides in the
distance. Gradually we gained altitude and the temperature dropped from a reasonable
high-60's (Fahrenheit, I've still not fathomed out how to change the bike's
external temperature display to Celsius!), to mid-50's. Enveloped by mist it
looked like the ride up Mount Washington would be in poor visibility, but that
didn't prove to be the case. Once we'd paid at the entrance ($17 and I had to
copper-up and use all my loose change or break another $100 bill) we started
the ascent, up the steep, narrow and very twisty road that leads to the summit.
With Aaron leading, and the pace set to very slow
to ensure we all made it,
we rose up into the clouds and then after a short section of dirt road emerged
into bright sunshine the other side, with the clouds below surrounding the
mountain like a blanket of cotton wool. At the summit we parked the bikes and
took lots of pictures then walked up the wooden staircase to the very summit
where there is a gift shop (another fridge magnet!), a sign proclaiming this is
the spot with the highest wind-speed ever recorded at a manned weather station
- a staggering 213 miles per hour! - and a museum with the story of the weather
station that's been manned here since 1932. It must be very bleak, especially
in Winter when the temperature drops well below freezing and the scientists have
to venture out in 90mph winds to break the rim ice from
their instruments with crow-bars!
After the obligatory group photo (see below)
we got back on our bikes and headed back down,
surrounded by fantastic views up until we descended into the clouds. Eventually
we emerged below the clouds, now under an overcast sky and continued
on our merry way riding in formation on roads that weaved gently through
the trees interrupted only by the occasional town. The road signs provided some
entertainment, particularly the one that read Peru 5 Mexico 1
-
at first I thought maybe this was a football score, then
realized it was simply the distance to small towns with big names!
After a stop for fuel and to grab a snack for
lunch, we continued on, the ride totally relaxed and
the passing scenery sufficiently interesting to make the ride very enjoyable.
The downside was that riding in a group meant that when we caught up with a
slightly slower moving vehicle we ended up following
it for mile after mile, the pace slower than ideal, interrupting the rhythm of
the ride. A section of interstate for 70 miles just before the town of Milford
and our motel for the night meant the ride didn't end as well as it had begun,
the monotony of the interstate dulling the senses sufficiently for me to notice
the odd ache and pain from another long day in the saddle. But the motel is
nice, next to the river and only a short 30-minute walk from the BoomHouse pub, which has a trivia quiz every Wednesday.
This was planned, as last time Aaron led a group on this trip they came second
in the quiz, and with Jeremy the current 3-time trivia quiz champion at home,
and a team of 10 including an architect, a doctor and several other highly
intelligent professionals (plus me!) we were in with a good chance of taking
the top prize! Only that proved not to be the case at all, as the questions
were ridiculously obscure (and very American-culture focused, ruling me out
even more than usual!), meaning we actually finished
joint last. Hey-ho, at least the local beer (Wolf Pup IPA) and the chicken
salad were excellent!
Another early start as we continue
the ride North with the aim of covering 420 miles and getting into Nova Scotia
later today. The weather was cold, overcast and with intermittent rain as we
left our breakfast stop at a local McDonald's (where I'm happy to report they
do oatmeal/porridge and tea!). The roads wound their
way to the Canadian border, nice, easy riding once more. The border crossing at
Vanceboro/St Croix was tiny but manned by a very efficient blonde female
customs agent, who told me what I was doing - you're going to be in Canada for
a week, riding round Nova Scotia, right?
and then stumped me by asking when I
was last in Canada (I couldn't remember, so said 2013, when in fact it was only
a couple of years ago!). But that didn't matter as I soon had my passport
stamped and was waved into Canada with a smile.
From the border the road became less interesting as we heading up the highway via Fredericton and on highway 2 all
the way to Nova Scotia. This section was cold, but after a brief fuel stop near
Amherst we took the longer, more scenic route down to
the coast and on to our overnight stop at Truro. By the time we arrived we were
very cold indeed, and it took a good 10 minutes of standing under a hot shower
to restore my body temperature to normal. It's not that it was that cold
outside, either, with the temperate around 10degrees C, but the humidity and wind-chill
took their toll. That evening we headed out to a local Boston Pizza place for
dinner, where I had some not-very-good beer and a nice chicken jambalaya.
A slightly later start of 8am saw
us head out of the hotel to the bikes in thick mist and with the temperature
barely above freezing. No time to linger as today we head to the main reason
for this trip - the Cabot Trail - but more of that tomorrow. First, we have a
full day riding across Nova Scotia, zig-zagging from the East coast to the West
coast and back again, before crossing on to Cape Breton island at the northern
end of Nova Scotia.
Despite the temperature,
the riding was superb, winding roads and great views of the ocean. Before long
the sun made an appearance and started to burn away the early morning mist, and
whilst it remained chilly (never rising above about 15C) it was very pleasant.
With Aaron leading the group of now 8 - Sharif had left is at Amherst yesterday
to head home to Halifax, whereas Kenny left us after seeing us to the hotel in
Truro - we had a leisurely ride, the pace settled and the riding easy. Lunch
was a Big G's restaurant in Guysborough, where me met up with another of
Aaron's Nova Scotian friends, Chad, who is joining us for a couple of days.
After lunch we continued on our way, the riding
getting ever more scenic the further north we headed, with great views of the
ocean and the many fishing ports that dotted the coastline.
From Guysborough we headed north east on
highway 4 to Sydney, where we took the scenic road across Boulardie
island and then around the coast to pick up the start of the Cabot Trail as we
turned off highway 312. From here it was a relatively short ride to our
accommodation for the next 3 nights, the very quirky Cabot Shores Wilderness
Park. This is more like a hippy commune than a traditional hotel, with various
buildings, cabins and yurts scattered about a large compound bordering the
ocean. After checking in we rode our bikes round to the cabin I'm sharing with
Jeremy, which is just lovely, with it's own kitchen/living area (I won't be cooking, though!) and a bedroom and
bathroom each.
Once showered we met up
in the main building where we had some very nice Kitchen Party Pale Ale
and
dinner - a very nice dahl curry in my case. Then off to bed ready to spend the
next two days riding the Cabot Trail - voted one of the top-5 motorcycling
roads in North America. Can't wait!
After the food excess of last night it was little surprise that I woke not in need of breakfast. But with clear blue skies the thought of departing early and having brunch instead appealed greatly. So I was first to leave the hotel, hitting the road at 7:50am with the temperate hovering around freezing and the bike's dash flashing me the temperature in Fahrenheit to warn me of the possibility of ice. But crisp mornings like this show the world at its best and this morning was no exception, with mist rising from the glass-calm waters of the inlets at the roadside as I rode through beams of pale orange sunshine between the trees on the other side of the road. I headed back the way we'd come yesterday, intending to ride the Cabot Trail in a clockwise direction. First thing I needed to attend to was fuel, so I went to the Esso garage in Baddeck that I'd passed yesterday, only it was closed. No problem, there was another petrol station in town on the GPS map, only that didn't exist. Ok, time to get back on the main road, and there was a fully-functioning petrol station almost immediately. With a full tank of fuel I was now totally content, and that mood would remain with me the whole day. I rode north west, over Hunters Mountain and via Middle River to Margaree Forks, where the Cabot Trail heads due north, joining the coast at Margaree Harbour. From here it hugs the coast for some distance, affording spectacular views of a deep azure-blue ocean dotted here and there with white horses as the waves gently make their way ashore. This was quite a contrast to yesterday when it was very windy and decidedly choppy. The ocean here is known for whales and there are many excursion options out to see them, but we don't have time on this trip, which meant I kept scanning the ocean whilst riding just on the off-chance I got to see one. I didn't, but the white horses kept me alert, as each time one appeared I'd be scanning looking for signs of the ocean giants. Just before Pleasant Bay were the road-works and dirt section we'd ridden yesterday, only this time my confidence was higher and it didn't pose even the slightest problem. I had planned to stop for brunch at the Rusty Anchor, where we stopped yesterday lunchtime, but it was closed, so I continued on. After a short while I reached a turn-off for the Beulach Ban falls, so took this and rode the short dirt-road to the trailhead, where a short walk took me to the falls. These were not very impressive, but as the sign close by had a poem to them, it would be churlish not to repeat it here.
The Return In a world that's always knowing In a place that's far away A boy decided he was going And left at break of day He left behind huge cedar trees He crossed the dusty fields Made his way through city streets Full of yells and screeching wheels He walked on through the frozen land And crossed the Miramichi Right by the beaches of red sand With scarcely a glance went he Onto the mainland's rocky shore By the light of evening moon He crossed the causeway's stony core Whistling a bagpipe tune Through vale and forest he then strode Crossed bridges all alone Following John Cabot's road The hills would take him home And finally he slowed and stopped A tired, weary man By where the highlands waters drop At a place call Beulach Ban
From here I returned to the main road and fueled up at Cape North, where I
met up with Jeremy who was also riding alone, having his own adventures. We
decided to ride up to the Bay of St Lawrence and via a dirt road to Meat
Cove together and this proved to be a really beautiful
ride. On the dirt road we passed the rest of the group (minus Dean) heading the
other way, and once at Meat Cove we stopped at the café for lunch - another
excellent bowl of seafood chowder!
After
returning to the main road we separated again, each of us happy to spend time
alone exploring this beautiful island. I took the road to the port at Dingwall,
then the little coast road to White Point, which proved to be a real highlight,
with great riding and some wonderful little harbours, with brightly coloured
fishing boats moored up, surrounded by hundreds of old lobster cages.
Eventually I returned to the main road once
more and made my way to the place we'd had breakfast at yesterday, the Clucking
Hen. When we were there, I'd spied the home-baked carrot cake and the thought
of this had kept me determined to head here on the way back to the hotel! It
proved to be just as delicious as I'd hoped, and with my hunger once again
satiated, I completed the circuit back to the Cabot Shores Wilderness lodge and
my cabin home-from-home. With a couple of hours free I was able to look at some
of the photos and update this story, but can't help
feel that I can't do days like today justice in words and pictures. Some days
are days that really make me feel so very fortunate. This was one of those days
- just spectacularly enjoyable!
And tonight, we're heading out for more lobster!
Tonight wasn't just lobster, though, it was also all-you-can-eat mussels (I ate a LOT!)
and even a taste of snow-crab. And Lobster, of course. All delicious too!
After 3 nights in the same location, this morning saw my travelling routine re-energised as I packed up and loaded the bike ready for departure. With breakfast to be taken en-route, we met up and checked out before leaving the eclectic grounds of Cabot Shores Wilderness Resort and it's wonderful host, Paul, who came to see us off and wish us happy travels. Riding south again on the Cabot Trail via Baddeck and on west before heading north towards Margaree and the Dancing Goat café. This is another of those wonderful family-run cafés that Aaron has found and recommended for this trip, and it didn't disappoint with a very good breakfast to set us up for the day. From here we rode to Margaree Forks where we turned south following the coast via Inverness and past the Glenora Distillery, both good examples of the many Scottish influences in this part of the world. The distillery is where Dean bought a couple of very small (250ml) bottles of their single malt whisky, which he filled himself from the cask and were individually numbered. He even had to sign his name in the book alongside the bottle numbers to record his ownership. The first of these bottles didn't last long, as last night he poured some large measures for the group so he could share it with us all - it's been that sort of trip. I didn't have a glass myself, preferring to keep my alcohol intake down, but I did sample it and can report is was very good! The coast ride didn't disappoint either, with good views under a clear blue sky and despite the temperature being a little low it all made for a great morning's ride. Just after we crossed the causeway back to mainland Nova Scotia we stopped for fuel and met up with Aaron, who had stayed behind to take an important business call. Reunited we continued on via Antigonish, where we turned to take the coast road down to Halifax. Arriving in a big city was something of a shock to the system after being up in the wilds for so long, but the group managed the traffic and endless roadworks very well, arriving at our hotel on the waterfront without drama. Once checked in and with the bikes parked in the underground car park, I showered and then Jeremy and I went out to try and meet up with Vernon - another Brit who had been on the Globebusters' Colombia trip I led in 2015 and who just happened to be on holiday in town. We met him in the Warehouse, where we'd be eating that evening and it was good to catch up and talk about all the travelling he's been doing since we last met. Dinner that evening was a big affair, as we were joined by Ken and his wife, Scott (who we met at the Boston Pizza place) and his wife and Shereef and his wife, making a total of 16 of us. Naturally we would feast once more on lobster, but not before sampling a starter of Digby scallops, which were truly delicious. The beer and conversation flowed, and it was another great evening.
With the sun shining brightly in a
cloudless sky we left the hotel and headed out of the city. The temperature was
cold still, but once clear of the city the riding was beautiful as we took
highway 333 down to the coast once more. The ocean was as calm as a mill-pond
as we passed via several small fishing ports and on to Peggy's Cove. Here we
stopped in the visitor's car park and wandered around, taking photos of the
lighthouse on the rocks and then walking down towards the harbour. The whole of
Peggy's Cove is a conservation area and dotted about are old wooden buildings
that have stood on this remote outcrop for generations. Aaron tells us that
he's never seen the ocean so calm and that normally the waves are crashing into
the rocks obscuring the view with spray; today there's barely a ripple on the
ocean and the whole place is quiet and very peaceful. Until the coaches start
to arrive and disgorge their contents of elderly tourists chattering towards
the lighthouse.
After purchasing yet
another fridge magnet we departed and rode further round the coast to Hubbards,
where we stopped at the Trellis Café for
breakfast. Another of those great, family-run cafés that we have used on the
trip, with fresh home-made bread to go with the cooked breakfast of eggs,
sausage and beans. Nicely set up for the day and with the route in my GPS, I
opted to separate from the group for some me-time
and so I could ride at my
own (slow) pace. I initially led away from the group, but due to a small
mistake in the route found myself doubling-back and rejoining
the route behind them, hanging back to create space to ride in. The coast road
was beautiful, passing a couple more fishing ports before it reached Bayswater
where I stopped to look at the memorial to Swiss Air Flight 111. Just 8 miles
off the coast is the place where the flight, from New York to Geneva came down,
killing all 229 people on board. The remains were gathered by teams based in
Peggy's Cove and here in Bayswater and the recovered remains are interred here,
with a large stone wall inscribed with their names. It was very moving, reading
the names and seeing several members of the same family inscribed on the
wall.
After a few moments of reflection I rejoined the road and
now with a good gap to the group, who hadn't stopped, I could ride at a very
sedate pace without fear of holding anyone up. Riding alone and taking in the
view was very relaxing. At Mahone Bay there was a scarecrow festival going on,
with lots of scarecrows stood outside the businesses, shops and houses that
lined the road through the town. Riding slowly I could
admire the sense of pride in the local community as everyone seemed to have
joined in and put a lot of effort into their own scarecrows. I saw the Addams
Family, the 2 princesses and snowman from Frozen
plus countless other film
characters as we as other, more generic, scarecrows. I rode through town very slowly,
but didn't stop for photos, preferring to etch the images into my memory than
my camera.
Further on up the coast the route had me taking the ferry at East LaHavre and was
showing an estimated arrival time of 7:10pm! I was
expecting to get a ribbing from the group for taking so long, but then
discovered the ferry wasn't running due to repairs. By now I was convinced I'd
got the wrong route, but didn't worry as I was having
a great day and the riding was enjoyable; besides, I knew where the hotel was
and so would get there eventually. Deciding to follow the estuary road further
inland before joining the main highway, I continued on,
reveling in the sharp flowing corners and enjoying
the stimulation of the sights of life going about its normal business as I
passed by. A little further up the road I spotted a Shell garage and decided to
stop for fuel and to double-check my route and there, parked up, were the
group! Aaron had also encountered the non-working ferry and was busy replanning
the route, using the same roads I'd decided upon!
Once again I dropped to the back of the group as we left the garage, then hung off the
back as we took to highway 103, preferring to set my own pace again. After a
while we took highway 8 inland, cutting across the island towards our overnight
stop at Digby. Part way along this road we turned off onto a dirt road to McGowans Lake,
where Kenny (the Nova Scotian who had joined
us earlier in the trip) was stationed with his helicopter. Kenny flies for the
government, dealing with incidents including forest fires and rescue
operations. Parked up next to the lake was his helicopter and he was gracious
in showing us round it and answering our questions. After a few photos we
returned to highway 8 and continued on to Digby, arriving at our B & B (the aptly-named Come
From Away Inn
) by late afternoon.
After the customary shower and change of clothes we headed out for dinner, opting to
eat at Fundy's Restaurant, where we naturally chose the world famous
Digby
Scallops (but not before we'd shared a portion of Bang-Bang Shrimp). These were
good, but not as good as the ones the previous night, as they were not in a
sauce. After dinner we took a stroll through town, stopping at a couple of the
souvenir shops, where I bought yet another fridge magnet - at this rate, I'm
going to need to buy a second fridge just for these!
Today will see us leave Nova Scotia and head back to the US, but first a quick breakfast in the B & B, which has recently changed hands and now wasn't that good. But with a bit of time before we leave to get the ferry, I had chance to call home and speak to Tracy, something that always makes the day start well. After that, there was a short ride to the ferry where we checked in and parked up to wait. After an hour or so the ferry was ready for boarding and we rode on-board then tied the bikes down before heading up to the lounge. I didn't even notice when we left our moorings, so smooth was the ocean at this point. With 2.5 hours to kill, we went and got some lunch and I immediately regretted it, the burger and fries being worse than McDonald's. Or Wendy's. In fact, worse than just about any burger I've ever had. But despite there now being a little swell causing the ferry to rock back and forth, my sea-legs kept everything where it should be. Once we arrived at the port of Saint John we debarked, and then rode for a while to the Canada/US border, where I was asked the usual questions before being admitted again. The rest of the journey to our hotel in the quaint town of Camden was uneventful and a tad dull, being mostly interstate/highway. But the motel in Camden was nice and a short walk took us back into town and to the Salty Dog Brewery, where we sampled a couple of the local brews and ate some more seafood. In this case some Bang-Bang Shrimp (prawns in a spicy batter) followed by a lobster roll (think lobster in a warm buttered hot-dog roll), which was better than it sounds. After dinner we stopped off at the Drouthy Bear pub, and English-style pub with yet more local brews to sample. Which of course we did, the old tradition of drinking a fair bit the night before a long ride still with me!
Now back in the US we have a long
riding day to take us all the way to Pennsylvania, a distance
of some 420 miles. Which meant an early pre-breakfast departure time of
6am, but despite last night's beer drinking this wasn't a problem and the group
were in their usual high spirits. Dean's dawn wake-up call
of Guess what we're going to do today? Ride our motorcycles ALL DAY LONG!
resulting in a chorus of SSHHHH!!!
as he was in danger of waking up the whole
hotel. Not that the sound of 8 motorcycles starting up and riding off wouldn't
have done anyway!
A little further down
the road we stopped off at Moody's diner, another of the excellent family-run
diners that the US is infamous for. On the menu was Cheddar Wurst and Eggs
and intrigued I had to give them a try. Just as was the case with yesterday's
burger, I wish I hadn't. The Cheddar Wurst was exactly what it sounds like -
a wurst-style hot-dog sausage that oozed cheddar cheese when
I cut into it. It looked like someone was squeezing a big sausage-shaped zit.
But the eggs and home-made bread meant the rest of the meal was more
palatable!
A long blast down the
interstate saw us cover 330 miles before we arrived at Frank Pepe's Pizza place
in West Hartford, where Aaron had assured us we could
get the best pizza in the US. He wasn't wrong, the pizzas were excellent - huge
great big slabs of pizza the size of a table-for-two cooked in massive
wood-burning pizza stoves. We were joined for lunch by Aaron's step-dad David
and a friend of Dean's (who's name escapes me), and ordered 4 pizzas for the 10 of us but there were still
plenty of slices left over for David to take home. I still ate way more than I
should have done, though!
Following lunch was more dull, uninteresting Interstate riding to
Matamoras in Pennsylvania and the Best Western where we were staying. The best
thing about this hotel was the guest laundry, where I was able to wash all my
clothes properly (I've been washing my underwear and socks in the sink up until
now). Still stuffed from lunch I went to the restaurant in the hotel with the
others, skipped drinking anything but water and had a bowl of French onion soup
for supper.
With a shorter riding day today to get us to Baltimore for our final night, we had an official departure time of 10am to ride a very short distance to get breakfast. With Don leaving the group to head to his home in North Carolina, that left just 7 of us and 6 of us were down for breakfast in the hotel at 7am as usual, unable to sleep in. With Aaron joining us at the allotted time, we rode round to a local chain breakfast place and had brunch. Then we took a very scenic ride down by the river on a road that bore more than a passing resemblance to British B-roads, tight, bumpy and twisty, running through a forest. After 2.5hours of riding we finally stopped, only having covered 93 miles. We were then on slightly more open roads, but with the traffic a little heavier going was still slow. It was getting warmer and when we took a wrong turn and had to u-turn in a retail park's car park I took the opportunity to stop and remove a layer. Whilst I'd seen which way the group went, when I set off again I'd lost sight of them, but as I had the coordinates of the hotel already programmed in my GPS I wasn't worried and decided on my own route. I turned off the main highway to ride south through Lancaster (most of the place names in these parts of the US are the same as places in the UK) and into the countryside. With the traffic lighter and me on my own able to make more progress the riding was very enjoyable. The countryside resembled parts of rural France or Germany, with rolling hills and fields on either side of the road. The main difference were the Amish communities I passed through, with families out in horse-drawn carriages and children dressed up like something from a Dicken's novel riding weird low-slung old-fashioned bicycles that looked like they had no tyres. Eventually my route joined up with the I-95 Interstate into Baltimore, which was a busy multi-lane highway with traffic buzzing by at 65-70 mph on both sides. This made it interesting as I was still route-finding and trying to ensure I didn't end up in the wrong lane and heading the wrong way. But there was no real problem and I found the turn-off that took me onto the road and straight through a rough-looking part of the city, then past a nice looking park with joggers and dog-walkers enjoying the sunshine and downtown to where there were road works and road closures. Some quick thinking enabled me to skirt this and arrive at the hotel quite quickly and without having to ride round the block a few times. I'd only just parked up and removed my helmet when who should arrive but Aaron with the rest of the group following behind! There was then some confusion with the valet parking guy, who first got Aaron and some of the group parked out front of the hotel, then he realized there wasn't room for all of us so directed us to the parking garage around the back of the hotel. So three of us rode there and parked up, and sometime later Dean was told to move his bike (Aaron, Jeremy and Rom all avoided the staff so couldn't be told to move theirs!). Once we were all cleaned up we set off walking round the riverfront, which was beautiful as the sun was setting, to the Riptide restaurant. The whole of this area of Baltimore was full of life, with bars and restaurants everywhere and this being Friday night, everyone was out in their finest, except us, of course, as we're still in our travelling clothes (albeit clean, for now!). At the restaurant we ordered crabs - a local speciality - and I was a little surprised when my cutlery turned out to be a small wooden hammer and a thin-bladed plastic knife. I was even more surprised when the waitress turned up with a large piece of brown paper and we had to take all our glasses and stuff off the table so she could lay it down like it was a posh tablecloth. All was revealed when the crabs came - all 10 of them - as they were unceremoniously dumped on the table in front of us. They were whole, cooked in a thick spicy breadcrumb like topping and the idea was for us to eat them with our hands, using the hammers to break the shells. Now there is a technique to eating crabs which Aaron demonstrated and I'll record here should you ever be in the same situation. It goes like this:
Today is the final day for the main part of the group, who are heading back to Tampa via the auto-train and not continuing on to Barber for the vintage motorcycle festival. So it was all emotional in the hotel lobby as we said goodbye to Darryl, Jeremy, Grant and Rom (OK, it wasn't that emotional, but for a Brit it was a little unseemly, all man-hugs and back-slapping!). We then rode together a short distance up the highway towards Washington D.C. before we peeled off and they rode away. Now with just Aaron, Dean and me, the pace quickened and we sped into town where we rode to Aaron's best friend John's house. After introductions to his family and a delicious home-baked cookie we rode with them in their car to a local restaurant for lunch. I'm glad to report I had a grilled chicken salad as I was still full of crabs and beer from the night before. After leaving lunch there was another short section of highway to get us away from the city before we hit the twisty roads and riding heaven through a part of the George Washington forest and on to our Holiday Inn Hotel in Woodstock, Virginia. A light dinner of pizza (no beer) and then off to bed early.
With nowhere particular to go, and
a lot of time to get there, we start the day for the first time without a real
plan, apart from heading south-west-ish on twisty
roads. As has been the case too often recently, breakfast consisted of oatmeal
made with hot-water (no hot milk or microwave available), but it still set me
up for the day nicely.
We rolled out of
the car park at 8:45am and straight onto twisty, well-surfaced roads that rose
up and down hillsides and mountains through forests of green. Before too long
we took a road that turned to dirt as it got further up the hillside, and with
road tyres and a lot of water in the lower valleys there was inevitable
sections of slippery mud. We also encountered a couple of rocky river
crossings, and it was in the second of these that I hit a rock and almost lost
my balance, stamping my foot down in knee-deep cold water which immediately
filled my right boot. All caught on both my helmet camera and Dean's phone for
posterity. But the important thing is I survived without falling off, damaging
Mira's bike or hurting myself, so all is good. Back on tarmac we saw a hot-rod
festival in a field, with lots of old Ford cars and pick ups
queuing to get in and parked in the field, but we didn't stop, preferring to
keep riding. A short while later there was a flurry in the field of long grass
to our right and a deer ran across the road right in front of the car in front
of us, which was unable to avoid clipping it. The poor thing fell over, then
jumped up and had to hop-and-jump back to the field, obviously suffering damage
to its hind leg. It bounded across the field, but I fear it won't survive too
long with what must have been a broken leg.
Riding as cautiously as ever for the rest of the day, we rode on with
just 2 stops in 250 miles, one to admire the view over German Valley
and the
other for fuel. At each stop we just stood in quiet contemplation of how great
the riding was, smiling knowingly at each other before saddling back up to
repeat the cycle of leaning left-right-left-right as the road took us on an
endless roller-coaster of a journey.
I've
had many really good riding days in my relatively
short motorcycle career (nearly 28 years since I passed my test) and today has
to rank as one of the top 10. West Virginia just has some fantastic riding
roads with hardly any traffic (we saw more motorcycles than cars today, which
is another indicator of just how good the riding is).
When we finally stopped at the Holiday Inn in
Roanoke we had covered 250 miles in 7 hours of riding.
A quick shower and an Uber taxi to a highly recommended Mexican restaurant for
dinner topped what has been a great day. Back at the hotel having eaten at just
6:45pm also gave me time to bring the blog up to date whilst Dean (who I'm now
sharing a room with) attends to our laundry!
Another day, another hotel
breakfast. This one was made a little more interesting by the chap we got
talking to who was riding a Kawasaki Ninja 650 that we'd seen yesterday (on a trailer) and is
fitted with dual-sport (on/off-road) tyres. He said he'd ridden part of the
Trans-AM Trail (TAT) on it, the dirt-road route across the US Aaron and I rode
in 2011! That's quite some feat on what is essentially a
sports-bike, but he did only go as far as Oaklahoma,
which is only at the start and on the flat and easy bit.
Straight after leaving the hotel we were back
on the twisty back roads of West Virginia, roads that took us through forests
and past fields and small settlements dotted here and there, the white wooden
houses and immaculate lawns standing out against the rugged tree-lined forests.
We also saw weird plant formations, where leaves from the Kudzu plant (also
known as Japanese Arrowroot), have surrounded the low plants at the roadside,
the trees and even the telegraph poles. Some of these formations looked like
animals standing proud and I swore one of them looked like Disney's Tigger. The
plant is invasive, grows like crazy and, having surrounded other plants is
killing them off all over the southern states. It does look amazing,
though!
After more twisty roads and a
section of gravel road we stopped for lunch, opting for a Chinese instead of
Subway thinking it would be lighter and more healthy.
We were wrong, it was disgusting, swimming in MSG and completely tasteless. Not
only that, but it sat heavy on the stomach, detracting from the afternoon's
excellent riding. The afternoon saw us head up into the mountains on a very
twisty road, with hairpin bends and great views. The signs at the start
proclaimed this to be the Back of the Dragon
, an obvious reference to the
famous Tail of the Dragon
road near Deal's Gap that I'd ridden before the
start of the TAT in 2011. Googling this later, it is clearly an attempt to
bring more motorcyclists to the area, declaring it thus: The premier road in
North America offers thirty two miles and 438 curves of knee dragging fun
on the official Virginia.org website! I wasn't dragging
my knee (or anything else for that matter!) but it was an enjoyable ride. It
wasn't without unexpected hazards either, as coming into one right hand bend
Dean had a massive moment when he hit a large patch of gravel (the only one on
a road like this we'd seen), but he saved it well.
Our overnight stop was the Holiday Inn in
West Jefferson and with a brewery in town with a good rating for its food, we looked
like we were in for a good night to end a great day. Only we then discovered
this must be the only town in the whole of the US without either a taxi service
or Uber! As a result, we had to ride to dinner, which was as good
as we hoped, even if we couldn't wash it down with a cold beer. This being a
craft brewery, I asked if they did take-outs and they did, in the form of a
Growler (32oz) or Crowler (16oz). Not knowing what
either was but not wanting to end up with a lot of a beer I didn't like, I
ordered 2 Crowlers, one of their Ass Clown Brown Ale
and one called
Ass Clown Ghost Chilli Ale
, whilst Dean got one of their
pumpkin ales. The brown ale was very good, but the pumpkin ale tasted, somewhat
unsurprisingly, of pumpkin and was, to my taste buds, not very nice. Dean liked
it though, his American palate clearly attuned to pumpkins (which we've seen
everywhere). But the Ghost Chilli ale was something else. Made with Ghost
Chillies, it was very spicy hot, to the point where a little sip was enough to
bring on the sweats and set my lips on fire. A second sip only confirmed this
and that was enough for me. Dean tried it, and the sight of him bouncing around
the room, face bright red, coughing and spluttering had me in fits. When he
went back for a second go and did the same it was just as funny. The crazy fool
kept trying it to see if it would improve with each taste. It didn't and the
rest went down the toilet, where it probably cleared the drains from here to
the east coast!
Yet another day starting with a
hotel breakfast, and like many on this trip that means oatmeal made with hot
water and a cup of black tea. I'm getting to like the latter, but the former is
not a patch on the Quaker's porridge I start the day with back home. This hotel
also had wi-fi that seemed to only connect for a minute or so before dropping
the connection, making my early morning conversation with Tracy difficult and
not setting me up for the day ahead in the best of moods. That quickly passed,
when we left the hotel and started riding on the Blue Ridge Parkway
Road.
This road, as the name implies,
follows the ridge along the Blue Ridge mountains from Virginia through North
Carolina. We were on the North Carolina section, but that didn't stop me
thinking of the Laurel and Hardy song Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia
, which
I ended up singing in my helmet repeatedly as we rode along. The road has a
45mph speed limit with fitted perfectly with the pace of riding appropriate to
such stunning scenery. As it wound its way along the ridge, the views over the
surrounding blue-tinged hillsides were superb. We followed this road all the
way to Asheville, were we left it to drop down the steep hillside and into
town. Here we met up with Don again (he'd left us the day before Baltimore) at
a Trader Joes (where we went so Aaron could get a supply of his favorite (sic)
organic walnuts). Don lives about 60 miles
from here high in the mountains outside Franklin in the Nantahala National
Forest. We rode to his house on the highways, arriving at a gate off the main
highway before entering the private driveway that leads to the few houses on
the mountain that includes his. The driveway was an experience in itself, with
a very tight, uphill, off-camber left turn leading to a single
track road that rose up a very steep incline before levelling off,
becoming gravel for a section and then another tight, steep, uphill dirt
section that led to his house. Off to the right of this narrow road all the way
up was a drop-off into the forest itself. Not a road for those of a nervous
disposition or afraid of heights!
Don's house is in a remarkable location, though, with a spectacular view over to the
distance Smokey Mountains from his veranda. But it was still early, only about
3pm, so we opted to drop off our luggage and head back out down the scary
driveway for a short 100-mile loop
. This took us on some truly fantastic
roads that skirted through Tennessee and Georgia before retuning
to North Carolina. On the way we stopped off to admire a waterfall called Dry
Falls
(it wasn't dry) and to admire the view at a spot where the local NRA
(National Rifle Association - America's gun lobby group) had been applying
graffiti to drum up support for their cause (which included on proclaiming ban
Democrats, not guns
). The riding was really enjoyable,
especially with the bike so much lighter without the panniers and luggage
aboard. Back at Don's by 6:30pm we were just in time to sit on the veranda and
watch the sun set over the Smokey Mountains.
A perfect 295-mile riding day needs a perfect meal to end it and this was
just such a day. Heading out in Don's Honda pickup, we drove to the Haywood
Smokehouse BBQ in Dillsboro, where the barbequed brisket and ribs were cooked
to perfection. The star of the meal, though, were the Burnt Ends Beans
-
baked beans with bits of the burnt ends of the brisket mixed in - I could have
eaten a big bowl of these on their own and been happy. Of course, this was
washed down with some local craft IPA ale too. A great end to a great day!
I slept really
well in the downstairs bedroom at Don's house, despite it being a little
stuffy with the window closed and no air conditioning. With a late start
planned, I showered and crept upstairs, the first to wake up as usual. On the
veranda, I sat and looked out towards the mountains but could see no further
than a few feet due to the early morning mist - it's this that gives these
mountains the name Smokey Mountains
as early settlers believed the hills were
on fire and the mist was smoke. Today was to be our first non-riding day since
leaving Aaron's house as we rode in Don's pickup back to Asheville while he
rode his GS to get it serviced. We took the opportunity to attend to some
chores with Dean buying as new pair of riding boots (his were very worn and
offered little support) and new trainers; and me finally finding an ATM that
would accept my travel card and let me draw out some more dollars. We also had
lunch in a little family-run Mexican restaurant, where the grilled chicken
salad was very good.
Back at Don's house
we attended to our laundry before heading back out to dinner. Don had chosen a
restaurant called Caffe Rel that was next to a petrol
station and looked unassuming from the outside. Inside it was all kitsch Italian,
but one look at the menu said we were in for
a treat. The chef was trained at a place on the east coast that only trains 5-6
chefs per year and the food was exceptional. I had a plate of shrimp cooked in
white wine and basil served on bed of bow-shaped pasta and it was delicious.
The other 3 were all looking forward to getting back to Don's where they had a
home-made all-American Apple Pie to eat, made by Don's housekeeper, but as I
can't eat cooked fruit they decided I should get a
take-away dessert from the restaurant. So I ordered a
piece of the Belgian chocolate cake to go. With organic ice-cream bought from a
store on the way back to Don's we were all set and that's when I opened the
container with my cake in. I know Americans have a reputation for being big
eaters, but the portion of cake the waitress had given me was simply HUGE! It
would have fed a small family, but undeterred, and because it was delicious, I
attacked it with gusto, almost managing to finish it, much to the amazement of
my fellow travelers!
A second night at Don's and once
again I slept well despite over-eating the night before. Up, showered and
packed by 8:30am, we said our goodbyes to Don, sad to leave this amazing
77-year old alone in his beautiful home (his wife passed away just 3 months
ago, his daughter shortly after). Negotiating the tricky driveway for the final
time we rode a short distance to a local diner for breakfast. I opted for a
light one, scrambled eggs (more like an omelet) on
toast, then Aaron used the excellent twisty roads
navigation option on his
BMW Navigator VI GPS unit to plot a route towards Birmingham, Alabama.
This took us on lots of small back roads,
through more countryside although this time with more houses and less forest.
After 2 hours of riding we stopped for fuel then continued, the temperature
rising as we headed further south-east, topping out at a very hot 92.5F (34C).
The traffic also got heavier the closer we got to Birmingham, so we switched to
faster route navigation and jumped on the Interstate. About 60 miles from
Birmingham, Aaron, riding at the front suddenly put on his indicator and pulled
over to the hard shoulder, stopping under a bridge, the only shade for miles.
His back tyre was flat. The cause appeared to be a nail and so Dean (who's a
mechanic by trade) jumped at the opportunity to show his skills and fixed it,
whilst Aaron sat on the guardrail and I took pictures. Back on the road we continued
on to our hotel, the Double Tree by Hilton, where
we will be staying for 4 nights. A large part of the car park was cordoned off
for motorcycle-only parking, a sign of the expected number of bikes due to stay
here for the nearby Barber Vintage Motorcycle Festival.
Checked in and showered, we ordered an Uber
to dinner, Aaron extoling the virtues of this simple way to get a taxi
that
means no paying or tipping in the car as it's all handled online. The taxi
is
given the route by Uber, but in this case it took us
all over residential downtown Birmingham before the driver quit and used
Aaron's Google maps to get us back on track and on to Jim & Nick's BBQ
place. Here we met up with one of Aaron's BMW buddies, Steve, and had another
BBQ brisket and a pint of IPA. The food was good, but not in the same league as
last night, but the craft ale was very good. After dinner Steve drove us to the
hotel, so no more uber-related navigation issues.
With the first of 3 days at the
Barber Vintage Motorcycle Festival ahead of us, we decided on a slightly later
start and agreed to meet at 8:30am for breakfast and to make plans. Dean and I
were there, but there was no sign of Aaron. Thinking
that he was probably up and networking (he barely sleeps), we weren't concerned
and sat in the lobby chatting. At 9:30am, the hotel PA system announced they
were going to be conducting a fire-alarm test just as I messaged Aaron to find
out where he was. His reply was Oh xxxx!, LOL, Just woke up!
- he'd overslept and the hotel PA had
woken him up! Clearly knowing that he hadn't got to organize a route for us to
ride that day had allowed him to relax and catch up on some much-needed
sleep.
With Aaron opting to go and get a
haircut, Dean and I jumped in an Uber and headed to the circuit. Once there we
took the shuttle that runs round the perimeter road to
the Fan Zone
where we bought a lemonade (it was already very hot!) and a
t-shirt before watching the Globe of Death
riders from the Urias family do
their thing. This is a 16-ft steel mesh globe into which the riders, mounted on
enduro-style bikes enter and ride around the inside. It's very impressive,
especially when all 3 riders, plus the girl with the microphone are in the cage
at the same time, the riders whizzing around the inside high-5'ing her! After
the show we met up with Aaron and wandered round, looking at the various
stalls. We took advantage of a first-aid stall that had sun-cream, but Dean
sprayed some into his eyes so we next had to look for
some water to wash it back out!
After that excitement we walked over to the Swap Meet area, where classic bike
enthusiasts sell of old bikes or parts for old bikes. It looks a little like a
large scrap yard, with gazebos providing shade under which these guys place
their rusty parts hoping that someone might need or want them. There are also
old classic bikes dotted about, including a very tidy looking 1975 Kawasaki Z1B
in the same colour scheme as my new z900RS. By now it was very, very, hot, so
we caught the shuttle round to the Ace Corner - a part of the circuit where the
Ace Café (of London fame, but represented here by its Orlando operation) had
setup. Aaron should have been on the list to get in for free (plus 3), but the
girl on the gate couldn't find his name. That didn't stop her giving us 4
wristbands, though, reasoning we were honest sounding folk. Inside, Aaron met
up with the guys running the show, who he knows well as he works closely with
them in Orlando and they apologized, saying his name was first on the list!
Here we sat and had a wrap for lunch and watched some of the action on the
track. The programme didn't list the practice or race timings, so it was
impossible to know what was going on, but we soon spotted the BMW-supported
rider Nate Kern, wrestling his RNineT round the track.
Around 4pm Aaron left to collect Mira from the airport and Dean and I moved down to the
main Ace Café area where we saw Nate arrive directly from the track after his
practice session ended. Still in his leathers he stood for while in the baking
heat being interviewed, explaining how the BMW, with it's inline crankshaft which rocks to the right,
makes right hand bends easier but left-hand ones more tricky. Very interesting,
for a petrol-head like me!
Once the interviews were over the band started playing, a mixture of Blues and Country
& Western, and Dean and I grabbed a couple of beers and relaxed. We
were unsure what time Aaron and Mira would head to the track to join us, but when
we got a message saying they weren't we left ourselves in order to get out of
the heat and back to the hotel. Dean was feeling unwell, the effects of the sun
and having his eyes sprayed with sun-cream taking their toll. I met up with
Aaron and Mira and we headed back out in an Uber to Fancy's on 5th, a
busy bar-restaurant in town, where we met
up with a number of the BMW guys working the festival.
Dinner was a noisy affair, but the burger I had was good and the beer
excellent.
For our second day at the Barber
Vintage Motorcycle Festival we agreed on a late start (to let Aaron sleep in!)
and after breakfast caught an Uber to the circuit pick-up point where we met
Jordan from BMW and got our Expo
passes. These give us unlimited access to
the circuit, and with the wristbands for the museum already procured we were
good to go. Jordan dropped us off at the entrance to the Barber Motorsports
Museum and in we went. As they say here, OH MY GOD!!!
The place is huge, built in a dedicated
building next to the circuit and housing over 1,400 motorcycles of various ages
as well as a large collection of racing Lotus cars. It started as Mr Barber's
own collection of motorcycles and has gradually expanded to what is now
believed is the world's largest motorcycle museum. The exhibits do not appear
to be in any particular order, with modern bikes
displayed alongside older bikes, although there are dedicated areas for very
early American motorcycles, flat-track racers, drag racers and dirt-track
bikes. The entrance is particularly impressive, with a large covered
atrium-style space with a central lift (elevator) at the sides of which are
racks with motorcycles stacked high up into the ceiling. Each of the 4 main
floors of the museum has hundreds of bikes on display, some stacked in racks
and others on plinths with explanations of what they are next to them. All are
immaculately prepared and in pristine condition, with the
exception of the few traveller's bikes which are left in original
post-expedition condition.
We spent a good few very happy hours admiring the bikes, which included some particular favourites of mine.
These included a Honda VF500FII Interceptor (the first big bike I ever owned, although it wasn't
called the Interceptor in the UK), and a 1974 Kawasaki Z900 (Z1a). The
collection is unusual, in that it's not just rare or significant bikes, but a
collection of bikes that are a reflection of the time
they were released. Some are obscure one-offs, including two made by the
renowned English engineer, Allan Millyard - a
Kawasaki z900 (z1) with a home-built 1600cc V-8 engine and a Kawasaki z1300
with a home-built 2300cc V12 engine!
After wandering around we grabbed a sandwich for lunch and then made our
way out via the gift shop, where the museum's only shortcoming became apparent.
No fridge magnets!
It was then a short shuttle ride over to Ace Corner ready for the evening's festivities, only to be
told there were none planned for the Saturday. This gave us chance to head back
to the cool of the hotel and a shower before heading to downtown Birmingham for
dinner. We met up with a couple of Aaron's friends, including Lee, one of the
two owners of Motus Motorcycles, and the other Jeremy, who has a very trick track-day
prepared race Ducati Panigale R. The story behind
Motus is fascinating as Lee and his business partner formed the company to
build an American muscle motorcycle with a V4 engine based on the V8 muscle
cars. The resultant bike is, apparently, quite something to ride and Aaron is a
dealer for them. Or was, because just recently the finance company that they
were reliant on has closed their credit line with no warning, just after they
had invested heavily in machinery necessary make the
bikes Euro-Compliant with ABS etc. This has effectively put them out of
business and Lee was unsurprisingly reticent to spend time around other
motorcycle enthusiasts. It was only Mira's presence that convinced him to come
out and I'm delighted he did, as he's such a charming, intelligent guy with a
clear passion for bikes and his company. I only hope they manage to get things
sorted out, as I'd love to ride one of his creations!
Dinner was in a restaurant called Chez Fonfon, a recommendation by Lee, and it was fantastic. I
had a great chicken liver mousse followed by the burger. Now normally in a good
restaurant the only burger would be the cleaner's lunch, but Lee recommended I
try the one on the menu and it was superb! More like a steak that had been
chopped up and put into a burger-shape than anything you'd normally get in a
bun. Leaving the bread also left me room for the delicious Lemon Meringue Pie
too!
After dinner we caught yet another
Uber back to the hotel and I was in bed and asleep by 10:30pm, dreaming of the
bikes I'd put in my own museum when I won the lottery!
Sick of hotel breakfasts, and
unwilling to pay the frankly ridiculous $15 charge, we walked to the nearby
Cracker Barrel, where I could get a bowl of cinnamon oatmeal and a hot tea for
$5, then caught another Uber back to the circuit. Today was slightly cooler
this morning with a little cloud cover so we headed straight to the paddock to
have a look around. Here there were lots of vans with race bikes of all sizes
and vintage parked up in the shade of the gazebos. The racers, who came in all
shapes, sizes and ages, were lounging around trying to stay out of the heat. We
got talking to a few as we wandered around, checking out the bikes.
Close to the main control building was a guy I wanted to meet, riding a very interesting race bike.
Michael Neeves is the chief road tester for MCN and a guy who won a
competition to become a journalist with the paper a few years ago. Now he
travels the world riding interesting bikes and is here to ride a very special
replica of the bike Mike Hailwood returned to race
and win the TT on in 1978, after an 11-year absence. This replica is an exact
copy of the bike, including a copy of the prototype Ducati 900cc engine - one
the engineers that built it had to re-create from the original drawings. I
found him in the pits and went to introduce myself, using the excuse that I
thought he might appreciate a fellow English accent. Turns out most of his team
in the paddock are ex-pat Brits! We had a good chat, though, discussing the
bike and how it handles, the heat, my 6,000-mile journey to be there (MCN is
running a ride 5,000 mile
promotion to get people to ride their bikes more,
I'd done more than that in the last 2.5 weeks!) and my trip next year guiding
the Globebusters' London to Tokyo expedition.
After chatting to Michael I rejoined the others at the BMW Motorrad
pits, where we got chatting to Nate Kern, the racer campaigning a BMW RNineT against
proper race superbikes (and beating them).
Nate was a pleasure to talk and listen to again, as he took us through the
challenges of riding a boxer-engined bike on track
and supporting his racing career on a shoe-string. As we sat in the
air-conditioned comfort of his rented motorhome, listening to him and Aaron
strategise on how to get BMW to make more of the
opportunities to promote the brand at events like this and the track-days Aaron
runs from his dealerships, it was easy to see them both being successful in the
future. The prospect of Nate racing the BMW Boxer Cup 2.0 series that's being
proposed is mouth-watering. I just hope he gets the chance and we get to see
him again, racing in the UK.
When we left the motorhome it was once again very hot, so we
caught the shuttle back to the museum for a final look around and some lunch.
On the basement floor, whilst admiring a collection of racing Porsches, we
bumped into Mr Barber himself, so we had the opportunity to thank him
personally for creating such a marvelous monument to
all that is motorcycling.
Then it was back
to the hotel for a shower and a walk to the Pappadeaux
restaurant across the road, where I had a truly excellent steak and shared a
bottle of good wine with Dean. A few beers in the bar of the hotel set me up
nicely for the early start the following day!
With 560 miles to ride to get back
to Aaron and Mira's place, we had an early start, waking at 5am and on the road
before dawn. 100 miles or so later we pulled off the highway to get breakfast
at a Cracker Barrel before rejoining the highway and
Interstate route south east. We stopped every 100 miles or so for fuel and to
relieve the boredom of highway riding, then stopped at Valdosta to get lunch at
El Toreo, a Mexican restaurant Aaron used to frequent
when he had an MRI centre close by. I was still full from
last night's dinner and breakfast, so could only manage half my salad. Then it
was back onto I-75 heading south into Florida in increasing heat and humidity,
with the occasional heavy rain shower thrown in for good measure.
With about 125miles to go we said goodbye to
Dean, who was separating from us to go and stay at a friend's house. It's
always hard saying goodbye to people who started the trip as complete strangers
and through it became good friends, but I'm sure this won't be the last time we
meet or ride together. Now it was just the 3 of us on 2 bikes heading down the
familiar last stretch and in to St Petersburg and to Aaron and Mira's
spectacular home. After 11.5 hours we pulled up on their driveway, having
covered a total trip distance just shy of 6,500 miles. Once changed I checked
in for my flights tomorrow and then we popped out to grab a snack at Zoe's
Kitchen, a Greek fast food
place that served an excellent Chicken Salad. The
only problem was snack
here doesn't mean small portions, and this salad
seemed to be self-replicating at a rate faster than I could eat it, so that
even after 10 minutes of frantic munching it appeared as big as when it was
served. It's not often I leave food, but on this occasion
I think if I'd carried on eating, I'd still be there and it would still be the
same huge bowl of salad it was originally!
Back at the house I went to bed, exhausted, despite it only being
9:30pm. It has been a great adventure, but now it's over and tomorrow I head
home.
After another good night's sleep, Aaron gave me a lift to the airport, with a short stop at a local fried-chicken place for some lunch. Saying goodbye to my good friend is always emotional, but at least this time I know I'll be seeing him again soon at our TransAM09 reunion at the NEC bike show next month. The return flights were not at all exciting, affording me chance to catch a little sleep and it didn't seem like too long before I'd landed back in Manchester and was meeting up with Tracy who'd come to pick me up and take me home, another great adventure finally over...