| Author | Message | ||
     Blake |
The following is my not so epic tale of my ride this Summer from Rockaway, NJ to Chautauqua, NY, then off to the Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) and a back roads journey home to Kilgore, Texas. Total distance covered was around 2,700 miles. With my job in Rockaway, NJ finally complete, and having tangled with the likes of the tri-state trash and Court Canfield, I ship 10 months worth of accumulated “stuff” home to Texas via UPS, load up the bike, and blast 380 miles to my parents’ Summer home on Chautauqua Lake in Dewittville, NY.  The bulk of the Tri-State Trash.  Lake Chautauqua, one of my all time favorite places.  Took the parents out to dinner at Barcelona Harbor House (thanks to Mr. Tom Colley for the recommendation).  “Stu, send the bill to Tom… yeah, of course for the whole beer swilling rowdy gang of bikers, all twelve of us!” Did you get the bill yet Tom?  I shared a nice tour of the NY and PA countryside with mom and dad; dad’s 1980 CB750C still runs like a champ. Before I hit the road for Texas, I had to mount new tires front and rear.  Magically suspended Cyclone.  No trick photography! I promise.  Can you tell what’s holding up the rear end?  Don't even think about touching that stick! I usually put another stick under the rear peg mount as a safety backup. Aslo note the blocked front tire and the tightly clamped front brake lever (via velcro strap). That precarious arrangement still makes me nervous, but with no bike stand or overhead structure to hoist from, what else can you do? For the front, I just put a scissors jack under the front shock bracketry. Works like a charm (with rear wheel/tire installed of course).  | ||
| Blake |
 You asked for it. Well someone did . All the stuff pictured gets loaded on my '97 Cyclone. It all fits into the saddlebags, Ventura pack, and a Hydroseal bag. The tent in it's own nylon bag gets attached to the Ventura pack via two bungies. The light stuff (sleeping bag and Thermarest mattress go into the cantilevered Ventura pack. Heaviest stuff, tools, cookware, and food go into the saddlebags. Clothing and towels and a pair of Tivas go into the yellow Hydroseal bag.  After being bundled in a stretchy porous shelf liner material (buy it at Walmart), all the tools and maintenance items fit into the black nylon pouch on the left. Velcro wrap/straps (like the one at top of pic are VERY handy. Apparently adjustable wrenches can be used as currency in Appalachia. Can't be too careful when on the road a long way from home. ![: ]](http://www.badweatherbikers.com/buell/clipart/proud.gif)  Yep, it's ALL in there.  The '97 Cyclone packed and prepped for the 2,100 miles to Texas. Nice, clean, shiny bike. That'll last through the first day's ride. Rain happens. But it happened every single day of my trip home. I'd do it again in a second.  Ready to roll (Chautauqua, NY), just me, my Joe Rockets, and around 80 pounds of gear and supplies. Note the very well coordinated and complementary colors of the finely tailored wardrobe, bike, helmet, and luggage. If you gonna ride a Buell, you gotta look good.  Warning, rumored sightings of BHR-like creatures. Thankfully they have to date all been unarmed. | ||
| Blake |
 It all dismounts easily in less than a minute.  Sierra Designs tent pitched, Thermorest Camprest self inflating mattress set to medium firm, mummy style bag deployed for peaceful slumber. Time to fire up the sterno and cook some dinner! What's that awesome sound? Low rumbling rolling... great. It's a badass thunderstorm barreling straight over the ridge with my campsite in it's crosshairs. A quick check on the weather-radio confirms it. Forty mph sustained winds gusting to 60 mph; hail is a possibility. Looks like my homemade trail mix will have to tide me over until the storm passes. The storm did it's best to blow tent and contents off the ridge into the Shanendoah valley. Thankfully it withheld its rumored arsenal of hail.  Peaceful. (A place I try to revist in my mind a lot lately.)  If you are in the remote hills of NC or TN at this time of day, and you hear banjo music, you best saddle up and ride.   My Cyclone's Borla disturbed the afternoon nap of this new aquaintance, a critter best greeted from a respectful distance. This highly venomous timber rattler acted very nonchalant, like she owned the road. She was coiled up sleeping when I first happened by. Being the animal lover than I am, I felt compelled to stop and pursuade the reptile to leave the road. It took a little prodding with a LONG stick to get the lazy reptile to remove herself from the wheel track of the northbound BRP. Once out of site in the weeds, she commenced rattling. Females, sheesh. | ||
| Blake |
(The Rest of the Story) Recognize the picture below?  World Class Asphalt, BRP Style! One of the great attributes of the BRP is its reliably tactile pavement, some of the best asphalt on the planet! The stuff is like sandpaper, really confidence inspiring. | ||
| Blake |
 Parked at NC Overlook  Photostitch panorama, cause I could. Cool eh? Digital Cameras Rock!} The entire Parkway is lined with one awe inspiring scenic overlook after another, a plethora of wondrous panoramas and pristine majestic vistas. This is just one of them. As much as I enjoy riding the Parkway, attacking the reliably engineered curves, I always feel pangs of guilt for passing by so many overlooks, so many opportunities for memorable photographs and peaceful moments of contemplation. In everything we must have balance, kick the Buell down to 2nd and flog her back up to 60 mph, skip over 3rd and 4th, and settle back into a nice relaxing yet rhythm in 5th, ever watchful for critters and the rare heart stopping stalled travel-trailer just past that blind right hander.  A good reason to carry spare TP. Pushing onwards to Great Smoky Mountains National Park and my favorite campground on Balsam Mountain, the last 50 miles before reaching the turnoff is prime grade-A BRP twisties as is the eight mile jaunt up the mountain to the campground. I’ve covered those stretches of road at least a dozen times in the last two years, but adrenaline still floods my veins as my mind struggles to grasp the capabilities of the bike. With the rearsets, there is no indication other than my own reckoning how far I am pushing the envelope. To reassure myself of the Dunlops’ grip on the asphalt, I give the throttle a good twist just as I’m exiting a curve; the rear tire holds fast leaving the posted 20 mph lefthander at a smooth 50 mph in 4th gear. I’m always amazed at how stable the bike is when carrying such a cumbersome load. It does real well with all my gear stacked on too.  I pull into the campground and find plenty of sites available in my favorite tent-only area at the top of the mountain. I’m grateful for the bear boxes as a drizzle has begun to fall and they will make teh task of keeping things dry a lot less stressful. Looks like I’ll be pitching the tent in the rain. No big deal usually, except that the tent roof is virtually all mesh; until the rain fly is on, water collects on the floor. Which is why I carry the chamois. Hint for those that might encounter this situation… Assemble your poles before laying down the tent. My waterproofing preparations (everything in ziplock bags and/or Hydroseal waterproof bags, siliconed water resistant riding gear) pay off, nothing gets moist that wasn’t meant to be.   Campsite in Smoky Mountain Nat. Park Complete with Bear Box It is clearly evident how the “Great Smoky Mountains” earned their name. The photo above shows my campsite at Balsam Mountain Campground, Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The elevation is over a mile high, but the fresh air seems rich with oxygen from all the lush flora.  Campsite neighbors, three cousins and a dog As soon as I walk up to my chosen site, three friendly tenting neighbors, all cousins, offer hot chocolate and a bit of shelter; heck yes I accepted! The dog never did warm up to me, they said he had been a rescue from terrible abuse and took a LONG time to accept strangers.  Dogs always like me and I was disappointed that I couldn't gain his confidence, no matter what I tried. He wasn't aggressive at all, just timid and vocal.  Tony and Nicole, Newlywed Cyclists/Campers My only other tenting neighbors, these two newlyweds, Tony and Nicole, had just biked the entire BRP from north to south. Y’all might chastise me for suggesting this, but for sport touring, maybe a little trailer like they each tow behind their mountain bikes wouldn’t be such a terrible thing for a Buell or any sportbike for that matter. Especially if the hitch bracketry could be made easily removable and it utilized pressure activated brakes. If setup correctly, you supposedly don’t know it’s there, and it would allow a two-up pair to camp. Not that I've found anyone willing to ride on back with me.  Can't blame anyone for that. Lounging cozily in my sleeping bag that morning studying the road atlas, I wasn’t sure if I would blitz all the way from the park to Kilgore, Texas in one gonzo 700 mile leg or if I would split the remaining miles into two legs and stop for one more night on the road. Still pondering the issue, I took my time rising in the morning as it was pouring down rain and quite cool, heck none of my camping neighbors were stirring yet either. Once up, I spent some time on personal hygiene (pick bugs from teeth and such) then fired up the Sterno stove and took my time cooking and enjoying a nice steaming hot breakfast. By the time I had everything neatly packed and loaded it was pushing past noon, and the sun was shining. Heading down the mountain, the roads were mostly dry except for shaded areas where the asphalt lay beneath overhanging trees or cliffs. The leaf ridden wet spots made the short run even more exciting than usual. Upon reaching the BRP, I hesitated and stopped, still unsure of my route. Some of the best riding I recall lay just east in the opposite direction of the route towards home, the same stretch of road I had so enjoyed just the day before. The answer to my dilemma was instantly clear; I would spend one more night on the road; I would recarve the BRP east for a stretch through some of its absolutely best riding, then head back west, tear up the dragon and fly the Cherohala Skyway; then I’d forge my way towards East Texas via some interesting TN back roads and hopefully find a campground that evening. I’d have a boring and monotonous albeit easy last day hitting the superslab on the final leg. The BRP did not disappoint. Traffic was nonexistent; the asphalt smooth; the torque plentiful. Ever notice that on left handers you get an extra dose of exhaust note reflected from the pavement? I call it “leaf blower mode” since any leaves in the path of the exhaust blast get blown handily off the road.  View from the Dragon Parked along the Fontana River for a brief break. The river had a layer of mist that was just beginning to clear. The picture doesn’t do it justice, bad lighting/wrong time of day. Very Jurasic looking.  A slightly different angle of the same spot, sans Buell. Man, the dragon was a real treat. This was only the second time I had ridden it, but the old gnarly twisted dragon seemed far less daunting than it did the year before. I pulled into the parking lot at Fontana Village, drove over the big burnout smily, but there was nary a Buell in site. I paused to pay brief homage to the dragon’s squid memorial, the base/trunk of a large tree decorated with remnants of many an overzealous sportbike. Next it was on to the Cherohala Skyway and it’s glorious sweepers. Again, traffic was virtually nonexistent. The Skyway is nothing short of a world class sport biker’s road. Put it on your list along with the dragon and the BRP as a must do. Around 60 miles of relentless sweepers and scenic splendor. The rest of the story take a twist of irony. After enjoying some interesting TN back roads I grimly took to the superslab. Blasting down the highway I was instantly hit with pangs of homesickness, and I REALLY missed my babe of a wife. At 9 PM from somewhere near Birmingham, AL, I called her and told her I’d stopped and would see her tomorrow around 6. I then hopped back onto the bike and layed tracks for home. My impatience and desire to be home began to get the better of me; I was soon hitting triple digits. The bike is insanely smooth at anything over 65 MPH in 5th gear. My Shoei Z-II cut through the thick southern night air with nary a whisper (top vents closed). The sound of the snarling V-Twin kept me company as I negotiated lines of heavy haulers, the freighters of the superslab. I stop for gas, some water, and a bladder break, then back onto the superslab to pass many of the same damn trucks all over again. Finally, Shreveport looms on the horizon, and the sky is beginning to faintly lighten in my rearview mirrors. As I pass the Industrial Loop exit, the one that leads to Shreveport HD/Buell, I think of Brian and Richard Nallin. Wonder what the heck the brothers are into now. When I first met Brian (he sold me my 2nd Buell, a Y2K Cyclone) he and Richard were showing the world how to drag race a Buell. Next thing you know, Brian has his own performance shop complete with an impressive product line of heads and pistons; Richard is piloting Aaron Wilson’s/Team Elves’ 1987 Buell RR1000 to set and then extend four SOLID world records on the salt at Bonneville and Brian is building/racing a Buell based dirt tracker that is looking to challenge the status quo. What’s next…? Then I see the sign, “Longview, TX – 60 miles”! Just one more hour and I’m home to my baby. Nine hundred and twenty miles and eighteen hours since departing Balsam Mountain, it’s 6AM CDT on the dot, and I am parking at the back door. My trusty Border Collie, Roger, sounds the intruder alarm from inside the house, (he isn’t yet familiar with the new-to-me ’97 Cyclone with its Borla muffler). I unlock/open the door and get mobbed by canines and a surprised wife. Man did that feel good. I sure do love my family.  Blake, Michele, ’97 Buell Cyclone, and Roger It is glorious to be home! I can’t wait to do it again.  | ||
| Blake |
My Route (roads highly recommended are shown in bold): Day One (~250 mi): NY430E, I86E, NY280S, PA 321S, PA555E, PA120E, PA144S to Bellefonte, PA. Day Two (~350 mi): PA144S, PA322E, PA103S, PA/MD/WV/VA522S, Skyline Drive to Shenandoah NP's Big Meadows Campground. Day Three (~200 mi): Skyline Drive/Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) South, to Rocky Knob Campground. Day Four (~300 mi): BRP south to GSMNP's Balsam Mountain Campground (road to campground is 8 miles of prime twisties). Day Five (~900 mi): BRP north to NC74W to NC28W (the so called Dragon's Tail to Deal's Gap), NC129S, the Cherohala Skyway (NC/TN143W), TN68S, TN64/74/40W followed by 700 miles of interstate highway (was REALLY missing my honey, so I slabbed it all night from Cleveland, TN to Kilgore, TX. | ||
| Road_Thing |
Blake: Great story and pics! Where did you pack the green sofa? r_t | ||
| Ralph |
I deny having anything to do with the reasoning behind that sign. Sounds like you had a great trip. Wish I could have gone with you. R_T, Blake rolled the couch up in the carpet and slung it over his shoulder. Nothing like the comforts of home bighairyralph | ||
| Pangalactic |
I resent(ble) that comment about the banjo playin' north carolinian- that happens to be me! | ||
| Blake |
... an you got you'sm raht priddy lips thar Pan.  | ||
| Pangalactic |
Ah think that's mah line... | ||
| Blake |
RT: I just got it through my thick skull that you were joking about the green sofa in my gear pic. LOL! My thermorest camprest deluxe is WAY more comfy than that old green sofa. Darn near as comfy as my lazyboy. How'd you like that carpet? The place is tastefully decorated in late 60's - early 70's groovy man... olive green fridge, olive green sink, walnut paneling, psychedelic orangish shag carpet with curtains to match... can you dig it? I can. Peace man, Blake | ||
| Blake |
Pan: Yeah, well, I shoot a real mean compound. There'll be no squealin' round cheer. I'll let you know when those smooth skinned TST fellers are headed your way agin. | ||
| Road_Thing |
Blake: I had a flashback when I saw the shag carpet... r_t | ||
| Clydeglide |
Sooo Blake, Did you ride to Hammondsport and visit the Glen Curtis Museum? Did you click on my profile early one morning then promptly ride to Buffalo, cross the Peace Bridge and take my "favorite ride"? On the way back did you stop for dinner at Ming Teh in dreary Ft. Erie ON? Chinese food like you've never had. Not the generic Chinese you find at the corner Won Hung Lo's. Is a member of the Reid family still involved in Jamestown HD/Buell? Probably drifted or powered by your dock dozens of times in the early 90's. Rode by the front door on my first HD about as often. Still, my favorite Western New York view was watching the City of Buffalo skyline diappear in the rear view mirrors. Saw that shag carpet. Wasn't sure if I had a memory or a flashback. Clyde | ||
| Blake |
Gosh Clyde, you must think me rude beyond measure. I thought I had responded to your post way back when. Must have been disconnected before it sent. Please accept my appologies. Of course I am pretty darn rude sometimes. I'm embarassed to have to ask... What is the Glen Curtis Museum? I've got your preferred ride "Niagara Parkway from Ft. Erie to Niagara Falls, Ontario then on to Niagara-on-the-Lake for lunch, best done during weekdays" on my list. I'll keep the restaurant in mind too. I'm a big fan of good food. Best Chinese I've had was in Rockaway, NJ. Little place right off I80, exit 37 on the north side of the interstate next to Howard Johnsons hotel. They served buffet style and offered calamari EVERY day during lunch. I can't recall if a "Reid" is involved with Jamestown HD or not. They are way "Pro-Buell" though. Of course Kosco's HD/Buell in NJ is too (they sponsor a Lightning series racer) and they didn't even have a shock wrench to fit a Buell. Other than that they were too cool. Mostly spent time with the folks there on the Lake. Did some fishing, dragged in a few Walleye and Smallmouth keepers, one 18 inch smallmouth, not bad eh? The dock is in a little private development called "Shorelands" about a quarter mile south of the condos/golf course and pretty much directly across the lake from the Mayville Boat Yard. Saw a guy riding a blue M2 in Mayville one day. Met another Bueller at the hardware store in Mayville on another. He had ALL kinds of questions looking at my bike. I turned him on to BadWeB and the other Buell boards. Hey buddy, you out there? That shag is awesome ain't it?!  Good to hear from ya! Blake | ||
| Clydeglide |
Blake, Never thought you were rude, just busy. And thank you very much for the reply. No apology needed. Curtiss Museum I often stayed on a boat at the Mayville Marina when I visited. The world is a little smaller now. Great pics of your trip!!! Clyde | ||
| Blake |
Cool place. Kinda humbling, old Glen Curtis was knocking on the door of 140 mph on his own home built moto back in 1907. Amazing! | ||
| Road_Thing |
Wow, I just looked at Curtis' LSR machine. He must have had cojones the size of grapefuits... r-t |
