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Man, the economic picture around here has been bleak for some of us, but continues to improve daily. With that, my attitude and outlook have improved, as well. I’m never what you would call, down, cause I’ve got it pretty good. I’ve got an awesome wife and family, great friends, relatively good health and my motorcycle. That’s right, I have to prioritize the machine simply on the fact that it keeps me sane in a way that only a motorcyclist can understand. I’ve heard it said that the vibration and constant attention can actually cleanse the mind, just like meditation.

Several weeks ago I went on such a cleansing tour with my riding buds. We left our area and headed on 295 over to Rt. 60 and then west to Cumberland to pick up RK who is a statistics professor at MCV. The more I get to know this guy the more I like him. So it’s myself, RK, Jack (a project manager), Frank (an HVAC guy), the Rev (a retired minister/businessman), heading towards the Blue Ridge Parkway for a 4 day trip thru the mountains of Virginia and North Carolina. Man, what a beautiful day. A little chilly, but sunny and promises of better things to come.

As we are leaving Cumberland Courthouse we all decide to top off our gas tanks so we won’t have to stop for a while. As guys will do, we all shoot the breeze and talk man stuff for a while before hitting the road. Finally we are ready to go only there’s a problem. It seems Jack left his helmet on top of the gas pump, and dog-gone if some “not too kind citizen” didn’t take Jack’s new helmet. Bummer! The nerve! We were just feet away, too. Luckily, RK lives just a couple miles away and we ride over to his house and get a spare helmet. The trip is saved for Jack.

Now, back to Rt. 60 and on to 24 thru Appomattox, straight over to Lynchburg where we stop for breakfast.(It’s still only 9am) Leaving Lynchburg we head to the beautiful Blue Ridge and turn south. I don’t know of a prettier sight. Low traffic and clear skies were just what the doctor ordered. The air was so clean and breathable that it felt good just to inhale and exhale. This is the first time I’ve been this far south on the Parkway and I find myself paying as much attention to the scenery as I am the road. But all is well as the 5 of us ride a comfortable pace and look out for each other like a band of brothers. Cool!

After a couple of hours of easy riding we avert a near disaster as an old man driving a pick-up truck drops a riding lawnmower off the back and falls right in the road in front of Frank, who was leading the pack. His quick reflexes and handling skills quelled what might have been a catastrophe. But, being the kind of guys we are, we all turned around to help the old guy. We actually lifted the small tractor and put it back in his truck. Of course, we had to talk for a while. The old man must have been in his late 80’s and was just going to mow his grass. He didn’t even strap the tractor down, hoping it would just stay in the truck. We and he were very lucky.

Mower

Back to the trip where we head off the Parkway for a restaurant in Fancy Gap. This was a true mountain dive. Home cooking and southern draw was entertaining and delicious. (And cheap) Back to the Parkway we ride further south hoping to be at our hotel in NC around 6. No way we’ll make that but everyone is still pumped so we keep going and going and going and after a few more stops and a bout with some rain showers we finally find our hotel. We’ve been on the bikes for 13 ½ hours. That’s a long day. Luckily there’s an Outback just a few blocks away and we head there to restore the energy levels and discuss the day. We are safe and ready to rest.

Next: Second day of the trip.
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=265 Thu, 11 Jun 2009 21:14:22 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=259 null

Well, times are tough, that we all know. The economy continues to throw us a curve, but we hang on and try to be creative and use our time in a constructive manner. So, with construction at a temporary standstill, I decided to give my buddy James Jarman a hand at his Suzuki/Yamaha dealership in Charlottesville. I've never worked in sales before but I have a basic knowledge of what it takes to make people happy with their purchases. I know motorcycles and I'm really glad to spend time with the Jarman family as we have been friends for over 30 years.

My first day on the job went by like a fast wind. Opening the doors at 10am we had people waiting in line at the door. Mostly for parts, but as I pulled bikes out for display I realized that this was no easy chore. They have over 150 bikes in stock and about 40 of those need to be put outside for display. This took about 30 minutes and was a little tougher than one might think. Pushing bikes around, some of which weigh in the neighborhood of 700 lbs. got to me a little. On the sales floor we have James, Mike, and myself with my role being the greeter/newby salesman until I learn more of the pricing.

I like talking to people, but some of the questions I was getting on my first day made me look a little dumb. I had to defer to James and Mike more times than I'd like to admit, but as the day wore on and my knowledge increased I was able to "talk shop" more effectively and actually had a hand in 3 sales. Pretty good for a rooky. Although the pace of the sales floor was hectic at times I found myself really enjoying my experience. It was something I'd never done before and I liked it.

I have decided that this was something I want to do, even though I have to give up my Saturdays I find myself looking forward to next weekend. It's good to be back to work even though it's not in my line of expertise. I'm breaking down barriers and leaning new things. I find I'm good at answering the phone,("Jarman's Sportcycles, how can I help you")

Footnote: We sell Yamaha and Suzuki motorcycles, sportbikes, dirtbikes, scooters, cruisers, touring bikes, standards, and accessories for all of those including a full line of riding gear and helmets.

Next time: Riding the Dragon
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=259 Mon, 20 Apr 2009 09:30:14 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=239
Well, we are here in Daytona. The sun is warm and there are motorcycles everywhere. Every make, model, size, ridden by every make, model, and size of person. The main streets are packed from the Daytona International Speedway all the way over to the beach, itself, which is some eight miles away. Luckily we have a hotel 3 blocks from the speedway which is where all the action is. Most people come down to ride around and show off their custom machines. Some people come to ride in the warm weather and beat the winter doldrums, but us, we came for the displays and demo rides. All the major manufacturers use Daytona Bike Week to display their new models and actually let you test ride the bikes. We rode 700 miles through the ice and freezing cold for just this.

Test rides are not for the riders that sleep in. You need to get to the dealers displays early to get your name on the waiting lists. Karl and I got up early to get to the Comfort Suites’free breakfast and get in line. Comfort Suites has the best free breakfast I’ve ever seen. Eggs, sausage, waffles, bagels, muffins, fresh OJ, cereal, fresh milk, Danishes, were just a start. Of course, I pigged out thinking we may not get to eat again for many hours. At least, that’s what I told myself. The hotel has so many riders staying there that they provide free, clean towels for the riders to wipe their bike off from the morning dew. So after we did our due diligence to our bikes, we rode on down to the displays to get in line. To our surprise, we were able to get in line at the Suzuki display right up front and be in the first group of riders to ride the new 2009 Suzukis of our choice. Karl and I both chose the Suzuki V-Strom which is a dual purpose machine that can be ridden off road and on pavement, as well. After an 18 mile test ride we headed over to the Yamaha display and were able to get in line to ride a V-Star cruiser. This bike is strictly a street cruiser, kinda like the one my friend Jim Foley used to ride. It’s a great bike and handles well but is a little down on power. Ah, next we got to ride and American made Buell. The Buell, although made in the US has an engine that is manufactured in Austria. It’s Buell’s first attempt at a water cooled V-Twin. Powerful and handled a little twitchy, but was a lot of fun and very fast.

And so the day went on. We picked up souvenirs for friends and family, visited the NASCAR museum, and then walked around and people watched for the next 6 or so hours. Man, I’m bushed. So the consensus is to get on our bikes and ride out to the beach and check out the action. So, in bumper to bumper traffic we made our attempt. After 30 minutes we still had not gotten there and I needed gas, so we pulled off on a side street in search of fuel. In just a couple of blocks we found a station that was open and there were other bikers getting gas, as well. We waited in a short line and when it was out turn the rider in front of me said “here don’t turn off the pump, the gas is free”. So, I looked back at Karl and shrugged my shoulders and filled my tank to the brim and then handed the pump to Karl and he did the same. Looking around as we left I felt a little uneasy but was thankful to the kind soul that seemed to like bikers. Oh well.

Now it is about 7 pm and the bike traffic is almost grid locked and I’m surprisingly hungry. We are getting nowhere and we aren’t even close to the strip. So, we make the decision to head back from which we came and find a nice eatery that’s not too crowded. Good luck! Weaving in and out of the back streets, we finally got back to the Speedway area. We take the back way to the hotel around by the airport and miss a load of traffic in doing so. We park the bikes and decide to walk to a steak place that we ate at last year. Kind of like a Sizzler but a local establishment. As we walk up to the door we notice that the name had changed but it was still the same place. The new name? Daisy Duke’s. You can only imagine why it is named that. As soon as we walked in we could tell. All the waitresses were wearing short cut-off jeans and t-shirts. But there was something not quite right, though. This was a steak house but all they were serving was pizza and sandwiches and, oh yeah, beer. But, I don’t drink alcohol and Karl rarely does. So we get a pizza and Karl drinks 2 Sam Adams while I drink a diet coke. Well we polish off the food and pay the waitress and walk back to the hotel and I notice that Karl is not talking right. He has caught a buzz off of the 2 beers and is a little looped. Now, what kind of hard core bikers are we? Lightweight! Oh well, I won’t tell anybody. Sissy!

The next morning gets here before we know it and we prepare for the ride home. I stop in at the free breakfast and have a waffle or 4 and pocket a couple of packaged Danishes for the trip. I pack the bike and wipe away the fresh Florida dew and warm up the engine. It’s 8 am and it’s already 70 degrees so the amount of gear I’m wearing is considerably less than when we came down. Our plan is to get on the highway and ride as long as we want to. After all, our trip was all about the ride. I pull the big Yamaha Venture out on to 95 north followed by Karl on his BMW and we settle in for the long ride home. Ya know, when the weather is this nice and the traffic is light, the purr of the V-4 under me, makes me really appreciate life and I’m so thankful I got to make this trip. Even though we traveled through rough conditions coming down, the ride home was awesome. The closer we get to Virginia the more I can feel the magnetic pull of the COTU. It’s weird, but the whole day seems to have gone by in a blink, and the road seemed effortless. Stopping only for gas, before we new it we are at the Virginia line and we asked the question, should we keep going and make the trip in one day? Well, sure, the weather is nice and although darkness is upon us let’s do it. So when we get to Petersburg Karl heads off on 95 to 288 and with a wave and a beep of the horn I turn on to 295 as we separate to make our way to our homes. The last 45 miles I ride alone on a semi-empty highway, thinking about the day and the last 14 hours of riding. I wasn’t tired, if anything I was refreshed and raring to ride more. I turn off of 95 and through the stoplights of the strip along Rt. 54, cross Rt.1 and on through town, still warm, still buzzing with excitement, happy to be home, but glad I went. The adventure of a long distance winter trip on my motorcycle is like a shot in the arm that once again re-news my spirit and de-stresses me like nothing else can. I’m home but I’ve been at home all week. I guess I love riding so much that anywhere I go is like coming home. Man, what a feeling!

See ya on the road!


Next time: Working at my friend’s motorcycle shop.


]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=239 Fri, 27 Mar 2009 22:15:12 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=238 AC Bruce "Back To The Future"
Well, after some months of recovery from shoulder surgery, I’m back on the bike and loving every second. Luckily, I healed well and am a little stiff but no worse for wear. I have actually been riding small jaunts to prepare myself for my yearly adventure to Daytona Bike week. A gathering of motorcyclist from all over the USA that congregate every year at this time for exhibits, racing, and riding in the warm Florida sun. My riding buddy Karl and I plan our trip to leave on Tuesday and return the following weekend. Simple, right?

Mother nature has a funny way of playing tricks on us here in Central Virginia. Warm one day, cold and rainy the next, but who’d of thought we’d get 8” of snow the Monday before we are scheduled to leave and have temps drop in to the teens? This is a true challenge but one that could be overcome with a good attitude. Now I don’t like cold weather and I surely don’t like icey roads but that’s what we are faced with the morning we leave. Don’t go? This was never a thought.

Karl calls the night before and ask for a plan revision. I agree and suggest we leave at noon and ride till dark or at least until we can’t take it anymore. So, Tuesday morning I get up to find the temperature gauge on the back porch reading 12 degrees. What!? So, I immediately turn on the news and am encouraged by the forecaster that the high will be 27. Yea! To be honest, I’ve never even considered riding below freezing, so am I stupid to attempt this? No! This is an adventure and we are men, right? Right! My plan is to dress for success. So, here’s the list:
1.Briefs and a t-shirt
2. one pair of light cycling tights
3.a light long sleeve T
4. another long sleeve T
5.One more pair of cycling tights (heavy)
6.one light long sleeve sweater
7.3 pair of thick socks
8.My lined leather motorcycle jacket
9. My lined leather pants
10.long fingered cycling gloves
11.My thick winter motorcycle gloves
12.A balaclava
13. A wool neck gaitor
14. high leather, lined motorcycle boots
15. My best Shoe R-1000 motorcycle helmet
That’s it. I have on enough clothes to travel to Antarctica. Now can I move or even get on the bike? Surprisingly, I can, but need to get on the road because I’m heating up fast and my glasses are starting to fog up.

I start the bike, it’s 27 degrees and I’m going. Ann gives me a big hug and a kiss and some goodbye advice and I snick the big Yamaha Venture in to gear and paddle my way out of our ice covered driveway. Once on Henry Clay road I dodge the patches of ice and turn right on to Dewey and left on to Thompson and head toward 95 south. The bright sun has started to melt some of the ice so the water puddles splash up on me and my shiney, trusty steed. No worries as I shift in to the higher gears and make my way on to the superslab and clear roadway. The traffic is light but I still fear ice. Not on the road but coming off the tops of the tractor trailers. But, I’m safe and I feel confident as I roll the interstate down to Temple Ave. where I meet up with Karl and we can take stock of our situation before we continue to Florida.

I pull off the interstate for our meeting place and discover that I’m not only warm but am quite comfortable in my many layers of gear. A few minutes go by and I see Karl on the exit ramp as he gives a wave that all is OK. Now, Karl rides a BMW R 1200 R which although is a great touring machine does not have a lot of wind protection. But, one thing Karl has that I do not is electric clothing. His jacket and gloves simply plug into his battery and provide warmth, just like an electric blanket. We are good to go.

The miles flow by and we watch the state line signs fall behind us, Virginia, North Carolina, past South of the Border, and on to Manning South Carolina which is where we decide to call it a day. We only stopped for gas twice and made excellent time. It’s 7 pm and we check in the Best Western hoping for better temps and conditions in the morning. I have a feeling of accomplishment and pride that we had just done something that not too many people would even attempt. Can you say, “Real men”? (At least that’s what we thought)

What!? It’s 7 a.m. Wednesday morning and I look out of the window to see a heavy frost on our bikes. It is so thick that it almost looks like snow. Hey we’ve been though worse. Are we men or mice? (Don’t answer that) We go to the hotel lobby and have our free continental breakfast of waffles with a side of donuts and watered down OJ and we are raring to go. I realize that I’ll have to put all those clothes back on because it’s 24 degrees. Jeeze, when is it going to warm up? I mean we are almost to Georgia. Although mother nature has tested us the last 400 miles we are optimistic as we re-enter 95 south. We cross the GA. line in a matter of minutes and Karl flashes me a hand signal that it’s 45 degrees. I can actually feel the sun warming me as we get closer to Fla. We stop for gas and a snack and are questioned by other travelers. Are you guys nuts? Well maybe , just a little. But, as we are passed by pick-up trucks with trailers and bikes on the back we stick out our chest a little farther because we rode to Bike Week. We brought that spirit with us for the whole 700 miles.

The warmth has now reached in to the low 60’s and I’m a little over dressed as I get closer to the Daytona exit and within no time at all we are pulling in to our hotel, satisfied that not only my bike made the trip but I had no problems at all. We are here in Florida, the sun is bright and warm and we are safe.

Next time: Bike week and the ride back to COTU.
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=238 Sun, 15 Mar 2009 19:56:29 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=226

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This year has been really fun for me. Motorcycling brought something back to my life that had been missing for a long time. The freedom and excitement of even the shortest rides renewed my spirit and gave me a better outlook on life. The fresh air of a mountain ride, the vibration of the engine, the new places and new friends, all made the 2008 riding season memorable. I rode to Florida twice, I’ve been to the Blue Ridge Parkway about 10 times, and I’ve explored almost every road in a 100 mile range. Each time enjoying every second I was on the bike. Imagine absolute joy filling every conceivable moment. What else can do that? All the senses heightened and awareness of surroundings is magnified. I describe it as being closer to heaven. Maybe even peace.

This past week I’ve ridden a lot because I have some surgery scheduled that will keep me off the bike for a few months. I rode one of my favorite routes. I take 33 to Mineral and head north on 522 to Unionville then left on Rt. 20 to Orange. The road in to Orange is so picturesque it should be on a post card. I then take 20 out of Orange to what I call Heaven’s Highway. This road is simply what I imagine you see as you ascend into the Pearly Gates. The farmland is pristine and the Blue Ridge in the background looks as if it were painted there by a master artist. It’s so beautiful that I always stop the bike and just sit there for a minute to soak it in. The silos and barns, the horses and cows, the awesome homes, the well manicured pastures, is all worth the trip and only pays me in dividends of peace and a calmness that relaxes my every thought.

So as I get ready for my downtime I carry with me the thoughts that I’ll get back on the bike in March or April, when the spring air will draw me back on the road and I can find new routes and ride with my friends. I can take Ann with me on a trip somewhere west of the mountains to new places. Just the thought of it will keep me going through these tough economic times and keep my spirit alive and looking to the future and better days.
I hope all have magical holidays and peace on Earth good will toward men!

See ya on the road,
AC
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=226 Tue, 18 Nov 2008 18:34:56 -0600 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=225 Parkway


Last Monday I rode with a group of 12 riders up to the Blue Ridge Parkway for our Fall Foliage Ride. We left Montpelier at 9 am for a cool, brisk shot of morning air but sunny and promises of warmth and panoramic views. Our ride leader kept the pace at a comfortable speed as to not lose anyone and keep the group together. Route 33 west though Louisa, Gordonsville, and Ruckersville and on up the winding turns to the ranger station on the parkway.

We all paid our $10 to enter the park and were on our way west. Me, riding mid-pack had to stop immediatly because I forgot to fasten my helmet and the group left, not knowing that I had stopped. I put a little pedal to the metal and was caught back up in no time. The trees were about 50% changed which made the canopies of light and colors everything we expected. We stopped at the first overlook and took a picture break. It was a cool sight, seeing 12 motorcycles lined up in front of the valley views from about 3000 ft. Just what I had hoped for.

As we took off from that overlook we checked to make sure all riders were with us and we headed south in a staggered pattern carefully obeying the speed limits and enjoying the turns. I noticed as the sun got higher that the temps were warming and the leaves on the trees seamed to burst with the reds and yellows acsented against the deep blue sky. I found myself feeling more Zen like and peaceful as the vibration and pull of the motorcycle lulled me into sense stillness as the world zipped past. This must be as close to heaven as you can get.

We approached the route 250 west exit and rode down the mountain to have lunch. We pulled into an Arby's parking lot and proceded inside. (not my choice) After we had all downed a roast beef we mounted up only to stop again for everyone to top off with gas for the rest of the ride. Back on the parkway heading south towards our Rt. 56 exit down the curvey roads to Crabtree Falls. This was as demanding on the upper body as it was fun. When the roadside signs said caution 15 mph they meant it. But, we all made it safely to the valley below and turned north on the road that runs right by Wintergreen and takes you to Rt. 6 which is how we headed home. Through Scottsville and Fork Union we made our way closer to Richmond as one by one riders branched off to go home until it was just me riding Rt. 54 towards Ashland. Almost 8 hours in the saddle. Was I tired? Only a little, but this was one of the best group rides I've ever been on. Great views, awesome comradery, time on my bike, and a peaceful easy feeling that even the Eagles couldn't describe. I wish you all could feel this feeling. In these troubled times I'm doing great, because I've got great friends, a happy family, relatively good health, and my motorcycle.

See ya on the road!]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=225 Mon, 27 Oct 2008 09:14:29 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=217 null

So, after visiting with Ann's family and the passing of her Aunt Betty, the time has come to make my way home. Still feeling under the weather, I prepare to leave Pensacola Beach first thing in the morning. I get up, make my way down the elevator to the parking garage of the hotel and realize that it's raining. Dag gone! There's a storm brewing to our west and headed our way fast so I decide to change my route. I'll take 10 east to Jacksonville and then straight up 95 north, home. Longer, but I may miss the majority of the rain. Riding a motorcycle in the rain is a little dangerous, not only because of low visibility but other drivers in cars and trucks just don't see you. Highway speeds make it even worse.

As I cross the 3 mile bridge off the island I notice that it's just misting and traffic is low. (It's 4:30 am) The temps are high 60's and there's no wind. Once I get out of the city and on the interstate the road becomes dark and lonely. Interstate 10 is one of the most boring roads in America. It's flat and there's no scenery. The only thing that helps me pass the time is singing to myself and counting motorcycles that I see. It seems like forever, but I finally make it to Jacksonville and 95 north. 8 grueling, boring hours have passed. I only stopped for gas and a snack and had put the pedal to the metal sometimes traveling at 85 mph, just to keep up with the flow of traffic. The Suzuki does well, though, and is purring like a powerful cat, never whimpering or missing a beat.

Once on 95 north, the whole demeanor of travel changes. It's like a fight with the road. Not only is traffic increased but the speeds are constant and nonforgiving. I try to stay in the right lane as much as possible but the lure of Ashland draws me in to open lanes to keep up speed. The pace is tiring and my body is giving out before I know it. Even though I don't want to, I decide to stop at 14 hours and get a hotel in South Carolina. I'm only 5 hours from home, but I can't ride anymore. The bike feels more like a torture device than a mode of transporting me home.

Whew, a hot shower and a nice clean bed is a welcome sight. I go over to the Arby's, next door, for a roast beef sandwich and go back to the hotel for a pitiful meal and a couple of Tylenol. Sleep comes quickly, I'm exhausted.

Morning is broadcasted to me by the sound of rain outside my hotel room door. I get up and open the door the see that storm I was trying to beat had caught me like a trapped rat. What do I do now? It's actually raining so hard that there's a stream flowing past the door and back in to the parking lot. I decide to run out and move the motorcycle to the shelter in front of the hotel office. Stupid move, maybe, but I plan to leave soon and I'd like for the seat to dry. It's 7 am and there's breakfast in the lobby so I eat a waffle and go back to the room to pack my stuff and get ready for the ride. My thinking is, it's got to slow down soon so I'll wait a while. Well, check out is at 11, so at 10:30 I pack the bike and put on my rain suit, start up the Suzuki and hit 95 north. It's raining, I mean really raining. 30 minutes on the road and I've got to stop. I can't see. I go to the rest area bathroom and put my helmet under the hand dryer until the helmet is dry and warm. Back on the road I create a strategy. I get behind a tractor trailer about 50 feet and use the light on the back of the trailer as a beacon or standard. This works pretty well and gets me to the NC border where I decide to take an extended break. I sit under a picnic shelter and people watch for about an hour.

Luck is just not with me today. The rain continues and the traffic increases as the day goes on. Back on the bike and I put my head down and grit out the next 150 miles. The speeds are still incredibly high which is a little frightening. What a minute, it's clearing up and warming up, but I'm almost at the Va. border and the last few miles were as hard as I've ever ridden. The road becomes more familiar and the sweet smell of the pines welcomes me closer and closer to Ashland. What a ride. When I get off 95 and head through the town I realize what I've done. Was it crazy? No! It was an adventure, and I made it! The trip was no Everest ascent but it was one of the hardest things I've done in a while.

Next time: Choosing long distance riding gear

See ya on the road,
AC
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=217 Wed, 27 Aug 2008 15:15:50 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=214
Well, Friday morning comes, the alarm gets me up at 5am, I pack the bike, grab a bagel, Kiss Ann, and I'm off. I'm real stopped up and my chest actually hurts and I feel feverish, but I'm going. I get out on 95 south and get up to speed and realize that I don't feel to awful, so maybe things will go smoothly. At Petersburg I slide off on to 85 south and settle in for the long haul. The bike is purring under me and the sweet sound of the Suzuki's exhaust note is like music. I stop for gas right at the NC border and grab a snack realizing that I feel a little better but not great. The day grinds on through NC, then SC, and in to Georgia and but I feel tired and decide to stop a little before Atlanta for the night. My plan is to get up early in the morning and breeze through Atlanta to miss the traffic. I see a Super 8 up ahead and check in for some well deserved rest and hopefully a good meal at a local restaurant. In to the room I go for a shower and immediately hit the sack. I don't feel too good. A couple of Tylenol should ease the pain of the fever and help me sleep.

The next morning comes in the blink of an eye and I feel good. Load up the Suzuki and back on 85 south. It's 5am and there's very little traffic as I approach the city of Atlanta. It seems strange riding 70 mph on 6 lanes that take me straight through the heart of the city and spit me out the other side like I was shot out of a cannon. The lights and the buildings are beautiful as they light up like the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. Quite a sight. 85 South turns dark again as I roll on toward Montgomery Alabama with the night temps only reaching 54 degrees which makes the ride very pleasant. Nippy, but pleasant. As the sun starts to rise (my favorite time of day), I stop at a Waffle house for an omelet and a glass of OJ (I gave up coffee 6 months ago) and I'm raring to go again. When I reach Montgomery I bear off on I 65 south for about 2 hours before taking 113-13 to 29 south in to Pensacola. Time to read the directions Ann wrote for me so I can get to her Uncle Joe's. Out to the bay and across the 3 mile bridge and down rt. 98. This is pretty country, hot and humid, but pretty. It took me a total of 17 hours, counting stops. That's a long ride!

Now, my coming to see Ann's aunt Betty is a surprise. She was recently diagnosed with lung and liver cancer and has only a short time on this Earth. So I'm hoping the surprise will cheer her up. (Ann I flying down and was suppose to be here but her plane got bumped) I pull in the driveway and walk up to the door. Knock knock and walk in the door. I hear uncle Joe yell, "who is it" from the bedroom. I say, "it's me" and walk in to the room seeing Aunt Betty lying down with oxygen flowing and Joe right there with her. They look shocked not knowing who it was because I still have my helmet on. So, I remove the helmet to see a big smile come on Betty's face and she belts out a big "AC". They both start laughing, I run over and give her a big hug and kiss. This made the trip worth while. Just that one smile. She's such a nice person.

Shortly afterwards, Ann arrives with her mother and nurse and the party begins. We all sit an talk as time fly’s by. Betty's 3 sons (Ann's cousins) all come in and before you know it we have to visit in shifts. Betty's real weak, though, so we say our goodnights hoping to see her tomorrow. We head to the hotel on the beach and rest for the night. Sadly, the next morning we get the phone call that we did not want. It seems Betty passed on during the night, taking her last shallow breath at 4:30 am. What a sweet soul. Thanks goodness we got there in time to see her. Somehow, I think she waited, even though my visit was a surprise. I so glad I went.

God Bless Betty Bowles

Next time: The ride back home and how to ride in the pouring rain.

See ya on the road,
AC

]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=214 Fri, 15 Aug 2008 19:27:46 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=209
I went into the little store and ask if she had Fix-a-flat, which would be the best I could hope for. Luckily she had one can. Whew, I'm saved. So, I go out to the bike and attach the fix-a-flat and let her rip. It fills the tire and is oozing out of the hole in the tire. It should seal, right?
Across Rt. 6 there's a closed service station that has a coin operated tire pump, so I ride the bike over and start the inflation process. As soon as I put air in, the fix-a-flat fluid starts spraying out of the sizable hole. Oh no! Now what? I go back over to the store and Karl is talking to one of the customers that tells us that he has a tubeless plug kit with him and he would be glad to fix the tire for me. He goes with me back to the bike and not only fixes my flat but gives me the kit. What can you say to a guy like that? I offered him money, but he wouldn't take it. He just said "maybe you can help someone else, just pass it on. We are all brothers of the road." Man, just when you think things are bad, someone steps up and renews your spirit. That one jesture of kindness made my day and the rest of the ride was awesome.

We proceeded up Rt. 6 then right on Rt. 20 to Scottsville where we had a great lunch. We headed over to Rt. 250 by way of Monticello and then on back home to our sweet town. This was a great day, not only did I learn to pack better for my motorcycle trips, but I had great kindness bestowed upon me in the most unselfish way. Ya know, aren't we all "brothers of the road"?

This Friday, I leave for my longest trip yet. I'm riding solo to Pensacola Florida to visit Ann's ailing aunt. I'm splitting the 16 hour ride in to 2 days. What an adventure.

See ya on the road,
AC
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=209 Sun, 3 Aug 2008 16:37:15 -0500 http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=197 null
Every Tuesday evening I ride over to Coffee Lane on Pole Green Road to meet a group of like minded riders. We usually have a snack, and pick a ride leader, then take off for a 2 hour adventure. Sometimes riding out thru the back roads of King William or New Kent and other times riding northern Hanover and beyond. I’ve gotten kind of addicted to the meeting for several reasons. Number one, having a group of guys and gals that have the same interest and love of motorcycling and number two, hearing stories of past adventures and marveling at close calls and trips to far off places. But the most important reason is; hey, I’ve made a bunch of new friends. These guys come together for the same reason but are all different in their education, vocation, and beliefs. But, the one thing that we all have in common is our love and respect of riding.

We also have a variety of motorcycles. From Harley cruisers to full on sport machines, to tourers and dual sports. Once we’re on the road all differences seem to be erased and we are “Riders”. Fun? No need to ask. Like our ride last night, we went 360 east to rt. 14 and were treated to some of the twistiest most technical asphalt around. As we rounded the turns and accelerated hard to the next one, it felt like I was a kid again. Maybe taking a few chances, but all the while staying within safe limits.

The cool part is at the end of the ride. Most people may want to stop for a beer, but not us, we stopped for ice cream, had great conversation, and as I rode off to head home, I thought, “ boy, I can’t wait for next week”.

See ya on the road
]]> General http://townhound.com/blog/acb.phpindex.php?itemid=197 Wed, 2 Jul 2008 09:57:40 -0500