Okay, it's not that were not tough or intrepid or any of that other manly stuff, you see. It's just that motorcycles, mountains, and rain/snow don't mix well. That's right...snow! The forecast for West Virginia for the upcoming weekend included a chance of snow on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Add to that the fact that today and tomorrow are predicted as complete rain-outs and you begin to understand why we deemed it prudent to flee to the south. Throw in the already cold temps and the added bonus that they were only going to continue to fall and you have arrived at a complete understanding of our decision making.
So it was that we rolled out at 8:22 a.m. with six of us headed south in the general direction of home. Just to be different, Lloyd opted to head west for the great state of Missouri where he plans to visit family. And that is how we came to lose Lloyd. We all wished him well on his continuing journey and gave him a hearty wave adieu; most of us even used all of our fingers to wave him off!
A grand total of 17 miles south of Beckley the rain started and it didn't stop for the next ten hours. Dammit! And it was cold to boot! Double dammit! There is something about the combination of rain, cold, and motorcycling that mixes together and produces a special brand of misery that only the most hearty two-wheelers have experienced and can appreciate. You just have to set your mind to the task at hand, the goal for the day, and get 'er done! And that's exactly what we did...well, most of us.
Somewhere south of the Virginia state line the misery kicked into high gear when the cold, the rain, the wind, and the traffic on I-77 was joined by dense fog and undulating terrain to make a misery stew of near-epic proportions. And that's when it happened; that's the moment we lost Bob!
You have to understand that Bob is a very bright man, an intellectual to say the least. A smart guy for those of you who may be too vocabularily-challenged to catch my drift. And, being a smart man, Bob decided that Misery Stew was not exactly his favorite dish; in fact, he decided he wasn't going to have so much as one more spoonful of this near-epic Misery Stew that that biatch Mother Nature was serving up. Yep, that's when we lost Bob. Being the smart man that he is, Bob pulled off the cold, wet, miserable interstate highway and found himself a nice, warm, dry motel room in Hillsville, VA, where he announced his intention to wait out the storm system until such time as he could travel in relative comfort and style. Damn, Bob, you are truly a wise and all knowing man! If only more of us could be so smart!
As for the rest of us less well intellecually-endowed members of the group, we persevered and persisted in our southward travels. The timeline so far being that we made it to the Virginia state line at 9:20 and not much longer after that we hit dense fog in Fancy Gap with 107 miles on the odometer. A long delay at the VA/NC state line followed our arrival there at 10:40 a.m. Mr. Sarcasm looked at his watch and noted that with all the delays we were averaging 30 MPH. The sad part is that he was exactly correct in his math. Dammit!
Eddie and Paul split off from the group at this point to pursue their alternative plan of riding south via US 301 out of Orangeburg, SC, rather than joining the rest of us for a jaunt over to Savannah, GA, for a visit to the 8th Air Force Museum. That left me, Boyd, and JT as the last three riders intent on pursuing the original plan...whatever that was.
Forward progress continued once we finally got moving from the NC Welcome Center. Moving south took us farther and farther from the mountains and our progress seemed to increase exponentially with each mile we moved away from those heaving mounds of earth and rock.
We arrived in Statesville, NC, at 12:30 where we spent an hour getting gas, lunch, and just drying out and warming up a bit.
Our next milestone was crossing the SC state line at 2:20 with exactly 220 miles on the odometer; quite the coincidence, huh?
Somewhere around 4:30 - 5:00 pm, we stopped in Orangeburg, SC, for gas at the shell station on US 601. It was there that I took the only photos of the day and you can see a few of them below.
At 6:13 pm, we crossed into Georgia on I-95; the rain still pouring down on us.
And, finally, at 6:30 pm, we were in Pooler, GA, site of the museum, where we checked into a cheap motel for the night. We were all cold, tired, wet, and ready for some time off the bike. But, you know, despite the bad weather, this was still a great day! We had more adventure and excitement in 10 minutes of riding today than all those sad souls who commented about our plight at the rest stops, the gas stations, and the burger joints will have in the next 10 years of their non-motorcycling lives. Poor bastards!
So it was that we rolled out at 8:22 a.m. with six of us headed south in the general direction of home. Just to be different, Lloyd opted to head west for the great state of Missouri where he plans to visit family. And that is how we came to lose Lloyd. We all wished him well on his continuing journey and gave him a hearty wave adieu; most of us even used all of our fingers to wave him off!
A grand total of 17 miles south of Beckley the rain started and it didn't stop for the next ten hours. Dammit! And it was cold to boot! Double dammit! There is something about the combination of rain, cold, and motorcycling that mixes together and produces a special brand of misery that only the most hearty two-wheelers have experienced and can appreciate. You just have to set your mind to the task at hand, the goal for the day, and get 'er done! And that's exactly what we did...well, most of us.
Somewhere south of the Virginia state line the misery kicked into high gear when the cold, the rain, the wind, and the traffic on I-77 was joined by dense fog and undulating terrain to make a misery stew of near-epic proportions. And that's when it happened; that's the moment we lost Bob!
You have to understand that Bob is a very bright man, an intellectual to say the least. A smart guy for those of you who may be too vocabularily-challenged to catch my drift. And, being a smart man, Bob decided that Misery Stew was not exactly his favorite dish; in fact, he decided he wasn't going to have so much as one more spoonful of this near-epic Misery Stew that that biatch Mother Nature was serving up. Yep, that's when we lost Bob. Being the smart man that he is, Bob pulled off the cold, wet, miserable interstate highway and found himself a nice, warm, dry motel room in Hillsville, VA, where he announced his intention to wait out the storm system until such time as he could travel in relative comfort and style. Damn, Bob, you are truly a wise and all knowing man! If only more of us could be so smart!
As for the rest of us less well intellecually-endowed members of the group, we persevered and persisted in our southward travels. The timeline so far being that we made it to the Virginia state line at 9:20 and not much longer after that we hit dense fog in Fancy Gap with 107 miles on the odometer. A long delay at the VA/NC state line followed our arrival there at 10:40 a.m. Mr. Sarcasm looked at his watch and noted that with all the delays we were averaging 30 MPH. The sad part is that he was exactly correct in his math. Dammit!
Eddie and Paul split off from the group at this point to pursue their alternative plan of riding south via US 301 out of Orangeburg, SC, rather than joining the rest of us for a jaunt over to Savannah, GA, for a visit to the 8th Air Force Museum. That left me, Boyd, and JT as the last three riders intent on pursuing the original plan...whatever that was.
Forward progress continued once we finally got moving from the NC Welcome Center. Moving south took us farther and farther from the mountains and our progress seemed to increase exponentially with each mile we moved away from those heaving mounds of earth and rock.
We arrived in Statesville, NC, at 12:30 where we spent an hour getting gas, lunch, and just drying out and warming up a bit.
Our next milestone was crossing the SC state line at 2:20 with exactly 220 miles on the odometer; quite the coincidence, huh?
Somewhere around 4:30 - 5:00 pm, we stopped in Orangeburg, SC, for gas at the shell station on US 601. It was there that I took the only photos of the day and you can see a few of them below.
At 6:13 pm, we crossed into Georgia on I-95; the rain still pouring down on us.
And, finally, at 6:30 pm, we were in Pooler, GA, site of the museum, where we checked into a cheap motel for the night. We were all cold, tired, wet, and ready for some time off the bike. But, you know, despite the bad weather, this was still a great day! We had more adventure and excitement in 10 minutes of riding today than all those sad souls who commented about our plight at the rest stops, the gas stations, and the burger joints will have in the next 10 years of their non-motorcycling lives. Poor bastards!
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