| Author | Message | ||
     Sshbsn |
Let me say up front that, due to unforeseen poverty, I wasn't able to purchase a tuber for this trip. Instead, I picked up a fairly thrashed FZR 600 track bike and rode it out and back. I bought the bike two days before I had to leave, and it needed tires--oddly sized. The girl at the local dealership was helpful (unusual here in SWFLA) but unsure, so called Bridgestone. Thank you Bridgestone for taking the time to quickly return her call and hook me up! The service department also bumped me ahead on the condition I remove and deliver the wheels to them. I bought some sensible spares to add to the service manual that came with the bike, did some work to it, and hit the road on schedule. I've never ridden a 600 before, but this one is all right. It's a little "old school" being barely oversquare, but as a result is presumably more pleasant to ride than the new short-stroke wonders. In fact, the entire trip it reminded me of my old CB750. Except more powerful. And much better handling. It is also one of the most comfortable bikes I've ever owned, and I say this after having neck surgery a while back. I planned on camping the whole time to save money, and picked up a pretty cool micro stove that I didn't even know existed. For anyone planning a bike trip, you've got to check out modern camping gear! You'll save a TON of weight and room. I used the soft luggage from my dearly departed Triumph Daytona, which I will never ever give up regardless of what I ride. It even found its way onto the Super Glide I had for a couple of months. I live deep down in Florida, so at the end of the first day I was only as far as Valdosta, Georgia. I had joined KOA thinking it would make life simple, and spent this first night camping with them. When I woke up the next morning the entire area was choked with smoke. At first I thought some nearby houses were burning yard waste or garbage. When I went to check out I asked the lady, "What's burning?" "Georgia," she said it so offhand that I didn't think much of it. Yet here we are almost two weeks later, and smoke from Georgia and northern Florida is swirling through the gulf and back onto us down here in Fort Myers. I can only guess at the dedication and endurance of the firefighters who have battled this disaster over such a long period. The smoke was actually so bad that I thought it might cancel my trip. But about 50 miles north of Valdosta it cleared up and I was on my way to TWO. | ||
| Sshbsn |
It hadn't ever occurred to me that people have been building homes in Georgia for what? 400 years? It's a beautiful state, and populated. Peter Egan wrote about a trip in Europe where he found wonderful roads with small villages spaced several miles apart. Georgia seems the same way. Everybody I came across was very friendly, and for the most part traffic was not an issue. The roads are scenic and well maintained, and of course this time of year the weather was ideal. Climbing the north Georgia mountains to reach TWO is stunning. Anybody who rides a motorcycle in North America needs to make the trip! The roads are stuck onto the mountain sides with fantastic views, waterfalls, pastures, and tremendously entertaining curves. The population thins out, with nicely spaced gas stations and little car traffic (on a weekday, at least). I reached TWO after hours, about 6:30ish, filled out the paperwork by the door, tossed everything off the bike at my campsite, and went out riding again until dark. Buells are made for roads like this, with tight turns exiting onto short climbs, and descents ending with heavy braking for more curves. I really missed the Firebolt, but the FZR was plenty entertaining. It isn't anywhere near as precise or capable as an XB, but that can add to the enjoyment. For those unacquainted with my Yamaha, it puts somewhere in the mid-70s power to the rear wheel stock, and mine has probably picked up 5-7 hp with its full yoshi exhaust, k/n filter, and carb rejet. Of course, at higher altitudes those figures decrease, but with a wet weight around 445 lbs the power, if not power delivery, seems similar to a Buell. TWO itself is biker heaven. I don't know how to post pics, but if I did all of you would see a large, barn-like, two-story structure which has a home-style restaurant situated in a "lodge" type room, complete with sofas, rocking chairs, fireplace, and mucho motorcycle paraphernalia. Upstairs are rooms for rent, out front is a large elevated porch, and out back is a pool. There is an open structure with firewood and a little covered parking available, both for nominal fees. Continuing around on a gravel drive, there are two more small buildings, one the "bathhouse" and the other closed with "Drag Specialties" on the door. ?? Take a left onto a wood bridge over a curvy creek and you are in the meadow for camping, with movable tables, chairs, and planted motorcycle skeletons. Across the road is a waterfall to lull you to sleep as you lay in your tent. As I laid in my tent, I calculated what it would cost monthly to simply live there! | ||
| Rotzaruck |
Ssh sounds like a very nice ride indeed, but you've managed to hit between the Buell wingdings in N Ga, you'll have to come back. Did they burn Georgia again? Dadburn Yankees. Ed | ||
| Sshbsn |
Rotzaruck-- What's cool is that I know my FZR would be welcome at a Buell wingding. So I packed up camp the next morning and went across the road to the c-store for coffee and gas. So far the bike had only burned about 3 oz. oil, pretty impresive considering how its life has been lead. It was freaking cold at night in those north GA mountains compared to SWFLA, and I hadn't had the foresight to bring a sleeping bag, carrying instead a sheet and thermarest pad to save room. So before I left GA I stopped in a small, obviously old town and went into its general store, where they had exactly one blanket in the whole building. I was so thankful that I had to get a picture of the little old lady who somehow knew exactly where it was among 40-years accumulation of merchandise. I didn't ride the "dragon" up there, since it's usually better to stay away from "destinations" and check out less touristy spots. The roads I did ride that morning contributed to the single best motorcycling day I have ever had, and I started riding in 1979. That day also began a week-long break from the congestion typical of the east coast, as I took 64 through southern TN. A different beauty than GA, 64 runs alongside a river at the bottom of a stony gorge. Blue water, lush vegetation, rocky cliffs alongside the curvy highway, and I could tell from the occasional parking lots and signs that this somewhat remote area really gets hopping on the weekends. This was also a venue for the Olympics, 1996 I think. After coming out of the gorge, I tried to spend the rest of the day getting lost on back roads. I have to say that TN has both the most nervous and most friendly deputies I've run across, and the towns in its rolling hills are straight out of an all-American movie. Clean and well-kept, surrounded by open spaces, the kind of towns where you'd expect little-league championships to be held. I wandered around until evening, then spent a final night at a KOA, this time in a Kamping Kabin due to impending storms. I didn't want to haul a soggy tent and gear on the back of my bike, since it really isn't designed to carry a lot of weight and still perform well. KOA proved to be more $$ than some of the motels I saw the next day, and seemed unwise to use any further. | ||
| Rotzaruck |
Shh I'm anxious to get mike bike reconstructed or replaced, and do some scouting around like that. Going somewhere with nowhere to go is the most fun way to travel. I drive Becky crazy, she wants to know where, what time, why, and all that stuff. I know that part of 64 very well, it's not far from here at all,I have always loved that part of the country. It is now a real hazard trying to get through there on the weekends. There are kayaks and rafts and tubers milling around all over the place.They are fun to watch in the river though. Our Boy Scout camp was on the back side of the lake (Ocoee/Parksville). We would sometimes meet a boat at a dock on 64, or we would drive in, on a gravel road that forded creeks something like sixteen times. If it came a big rain you were in trouble. I met one of those deputies one night, when I was sixteen and had driven to camp in my old 64 chevy pickup. He said "can you give me a good reason for driving 95 mph on this highway?" "Yes sir! Thats as fast as it would go" Oddly enough for a Tennessee deputy, he had no sense of humor. Did you notice the wooden flume across the river hanging on the side of the mountain? It's pretty impressive. They turn the river off, run it down the flume to a generator. The TVA and the rafting people are always fighting over who gets the water. Next time your that close to here without a blanket, just holler, I've got a couch, a big yard AND a tent and sleeping bag. Ya'll come back Ed | ||
| Sshbsn |
Ed-- Yep, it's nice to get lost on a bike. I appreciate the couch offer, and in fact if you are in the BadWeb RAN I probably stared at your name a week later wondering if I should call. They turn the river off?! I remember the TVA from high school history, and it's amazing what they can do. Oh, gotta go. I'll try to continue this story later... |
