Lookee here, it's bleedin' winter, even in some of Texas. Can't ride in this slop, so write something up about a ride you've taken.

 

Skip I would love to share even 1/10 of the stories you have but unfortunately so far the only riding I've done is back and forth to work. While those rides are fun since it's almost 100 miles a day I never meet anyone interesting or have anything interesting happen. But when I do start getting out with the group or start taking my "walkabout" rides (if I'm ever so lucky) then I'll be the first to share.

 

Ricky, those 100 miles a day you do to work & back are filled with sights, sounds, and smells. Every ride is a story. Yeah, some are more exciting, more interesting, more filled with unusual things, but all rides are worth hearing about.

Here's the last ride I was able to take, way back in November:

I came home from work and the weather looked like it was going to cooperate for the short afternoon jaunt THE MAMA and I had talked about the day before. It was finally sunny and the drive was dry enough to get a bike down it without fording any rivers, or calling a wrecker to get pulled from a swamp.

THE MAMA rolled her Suzuki Savage out of the shop and down the ramp into the carport. My Sloptail fired right up as usual, but the Savage was being a bit balky. THE MAMA has only been riding for a couple months, so I figured it was something with her starting procedure rather than the bike. I talked her through getting it going, grinned at her when she finally got it going, and told her every bike has its little ways, just like a woman. Ducking, I ran for the safety of my bike!

We started down the drive, THE MAMA following me as I navigated the ruts, rivers, and swamps our driveway seems to be made of these days. I remembered what one of the other ladies in my riding group said after driving her car up the drive coming to the officers meeting, "If Lisa can ride a bike up this driveway she won't have any problem passing the riding test!" She was right; THE MAMA passed the MSF course with flying colors.

We finally reached the bottom of the 1/4 mile drive, turned right onto the county road for another 1/4 mile, and then left onto US 59, heading south into Jefferson. A gas stop was first on the list as THE MAMA didn't remember how many miles she'd ridden since the last stop. About halfway into town I looked back and noticed her on the shoulder, coasting down. Yep, outta gas, onto reserve, and back onto the highway. She's learning!

We stopped at the V-Mart, topped off, and then headed east on TX 49 to a crossroads known as Smithland. Nothing there, but its a nice ride and with the little remaining daylight, it makes a good half-way point. We enjoyed the feeling of the sun low in the sky and shining on our backs. Pretty soon it'd be down and the evening chill would give just a bit of an edge to the air.

At Smithland we turned right on to TX 43, heading north, and starting our swing back towards home. We waved at the usual collection of grizzled old men, still slapping dominos, even though they had to edge closer to the fire barrel to keep just a bit of warmth in their bones. We passed through the tunnel of oaks, sweet gums, and pines that side the roads in this area and all too soon came upon the turn off back towards home.

This turn east onto Farm Road 2683 means the ride is winding down. 2683 isn't that much fun riding as it is a straight shot to the next turn we were to take. But there are plenty of sights on the short 5 mile stretch, and with a little luck maybe we'd get to see a few deer. With a bit more luck, maybe we wouldn't have any of the critters run out in front of us!

Too soon the little town of Lodi appeared. Town is a gross exaggeration as Lodi consists of a post office, a recently torn down Methodist church, and about 10 houses in the village proper. But I s'pose the folks living there like it well enough, and probably don't care what some crusty ol' fart of a biker think!

Anyway, we turned onto anothe Farm Road, jogged north a half mile, then west for a mile or two until we found the county road that would lead us back to our home. The shadows were lengthening and the ride was nearly over. As usual the dappling sunlight through the trees played havoc with seeing everything on the road, so I probably led THE MAMA through a couple potholes we might've otherwise missed. Such is life, I guess.

We finally found our drive, negotiated the swamps, r

 

Stones,

It's almost intimidating, Ain't it?

Mac

 

Yep. Skip does a great job making an extraordinary story out of an ordinary ride....though most of his don't seem very ordinary. I'll try though.

 

pococj,I used to ride for the thrill,speed,rush,etc. but ya'know it really is good for one to just get out,nowhere to go,just let all the problems of the day go away.

 

I live in NC and we have had nice weather this winter until about two weeks ago. Last monday it was very sunny outside so I thought I will take a short ride. After a few miles I (really) thought my sinuses were freezing, it was hurting some.No reason to stop. I did ride only about 40miles but I should have waited until the temp got above 30. After my little ride parts of my ears hurt for hours. Glad I rode, it helps build character.

 

In two years, my Ultra has been in 39 states but I don't want to boar any one with my stuff

 

Hey Folks. I'm the President of a local chapter of the "Cruiser Club USA" here in Lynchburg VA. Here's a story about a particular ride some of us took last August. It was originally written to our club members. I hope you enjoy it.

Danny



August 20 and 21, 2004
From the President himself and I had to make sure everyone had access to this one.

Hey Cruisers, The rest of the story….

What a ride we had this weekend!! We (Paul G. & Cindy P., Mike W., Derin F., Bob & Gloria L. and Debbie and me) left from Sheetz in Lynchburg around 10:15 AM Saturday headed for Goshen Pass and Green Banks West, VA. Our route took us up 29 N. to 501 S. to Rt.60. to 39 into Goshen. While stopped at a pull over along Goshen Pass, we heard a rumble that sounded as if a Dam had burst and we expected to see a huge wall of water coming up, wait a minute, coming up…? Water doesn’t run up hill, maybe a train, no, there aren’t any train tracks around here. Well, it must be a jet or Military Chopper flying over. NO, wait, LOOK!!!, It’s a bunch of Harleys coming up the Mountain. There were 15 to 20 that rumbled by. That doesn’t count the Gold Wings that were quietly holding their place with the group. We all looked at each other like DUH? We didn’t even think about the noise being bikes! Well, Goshen Pass was breath taking, but even more so for Debbie and Gloria. It seems they had seen another kind of gorge. Across the tranquil mountain stream of Goshen Pass, they had spotted some folks that were naked and about to take a dip. They had been mooned! There’s never a camera around when you need one. Well, we figured by the time we turned around for the rest of us to get a look, well you know what cold water does to ones body, probably wouldn’t have been much to see anyway. Besides, it was starting to drizzle and it was about lunchtime. We headed on up a few more miles to a restaurant. We weren’t the only ones with eating in mind. There must have been 60 to 70 bikes there. Fortunately, most of them were getting ready to leave. (We were later told that there was a Hog Rally up at Snow Shoe) Mike W. tooted his horn and waved as he peeled off and headed back home. By this time the bottom fell out and it rained for about an hour. We didn’t care, we were warm and dry and surrounded by food! The rain stopped just about the time we were ready to leave. We said goodbye to Derin as he headed back home and off we went to visit the GBT site. You can read all about this facility at www.gb.nrao.edu/GBT/GBT.shtml. So, it was just the six of us now on three bikes. We came prepared to stay overnight, so we headed on toward Monterey via 250 N. We were making fun of Paul G. and his three-gallon gas tank because we had to stop about every 70 miles so he could fuel up. The joke kind of stopped when we were cruising along on some lonesome stretch of highway and Bob’s bike coughed and spit and died! OUT OF GAS! Paul was in front and oblivious to Bob and Gloria’s misfortune, and he soon was out of sight. Debbie and I were in back so we stopped, made a couple of jokes about my tank on the Harley and Bob’s Intruder being the same size and we had fueled up at the same time. Man, I love my Harley! Debbie and I turned around and headed to a gas station about 5 miles back. We returned about 15 minutes later with a gallon jug of gas. By this time, Paul G. had come to realize we weren’t close behind anymore and had returned to the scene. Bob poured in the gas and we were off again! We arrived in Monterey about 7:20 PM. We stopped at a restaurant and while there decided to stay in this pretty little town for the night. Paul G. called a number he had for a motel there to guarantee some rooms. The clerk said they were available and didn’t need a credit card number, his word was good enough. Well, this should have clued us in about the accommodations, but I’ll get to that in a minute. He asked for directions and the clerk gave him a

 

Some story there Danny.

I found it quite amusing.