Riding Motorcycles in Winter, on purpose!
Thanks to the AMA Polar Bear Grand Tour.
Polar Bear Motorcycles by: Chris Loynd
If you've stumbled onto this page out of curiosity, you're welcome to stay
and read the saga of riding motorcycles in the winter.
Several of us from Connecticut, participate in the Polar
Bear Grand Tour, a winter-long set of destination rides sanctioned by the
American Motorcycle Association (AMA):
www.PolarBearGrandTour.com.
I enjoy writing and the antics of my fellow Polar Bears often provide
good fodder. This blog allows me to preserve some great
memories and to share them with my fellow Polar Bear motorcycle riders, you, and
anyone else in the world. Enjoy! So despite my first editor's warning
about committing to a weekly column, here it us, usually posted by the
Saturday after our Sunday ride.
Me, Chris Loynd, on my
very first Polar Bear ride.
To read the story of that
first ride, follow this link: Polar Bear Story.
If you're interested in riding with us from Connecticut,
it is very informal. Each rider is responsible for his or her own safety.
We meet at the Stratford (Conn.) Dunkin' Donuts, I-95, Exit 30, at the corner
of Lordship Blvd., and Honeyspot Rd. To get on the e-mail list for weekly
departure times, contact
me: Chris Loynd
chris@InfluentialCom.com
Please keep in mind I sometimes exaggerate here in an
attempt at humor. I make no promises for the veracity of any statements.
No warranty is expressed or implied. Your mileage may vary. Void where
prohibited.
Read this blog with a very big grain of
salt. (And discount anything Russ Curtis tells you by at least 30 percent!)
Polar Bear Riders from 2004. Full face helmets, plenty
of layers and electric clothing keep us toasty.
A great motorcycle
safety video from England.
Found it thanks to a Facebook post by fellow Bridgeport HOG Joanie
Thomas.
Guy at the end definitely needs EZ Pass!
You can also follow
this blog -- without pictures -- on Blogspot:
http://www.motorcyclepolarbear.blogspot.com/ where you can "follow"
the blog for automatic notice when the newest post appears.
Use your REFRESH button to see the latest entries.
Special Notice to Prospective Polar Bears:
Someone who wanted to ride with us approached me and said he was concerned about keeping up with us on the highway. I
assured him -- and now you -- that our goal is first and always: safe riding.
If you are a novice rider, you're still welcome to join us. Because all the locations are more than 100 miles away, we do a lot of expressway
riding. So you should be comfortable riding on I-95, the parkways and
turnpikes in New York metropolitan area traffic. But we do not speed
excessively, ride aggressively nor berate endlessly any new riders.
Remember each and every rider is responsible for his own safety. If you're
not comfortable, ride up to the leader, tap your helmet and we'll stop at the next rest area or
exit and have a discussion.
You do not need electric clothing, or even
any special equipment, to ride in the winter. John Kammerer simply bundles up in layers, the last layer
a good riding jacket to block the
wind. Investing in some electrics, long underwear, insulated boots and
a full-face helmet can make your experience a lot warmer.
Check out
these pages for some information and tips on winter riding:Winter Riding.
You can
also find out more information at the Polar Bear (PB) web site:
www.PolarBearGrandTour.com where there's a section for new members. The American
Motorcyclists Association (AMA) web site also
has a very good section on "How
to do Winter Riding Right."
EZ Pass
is strongly recommended. Most all our rides end up on the NJ Turnpike and
Garden State Parkway. Having EZ Pass makes it very easy to keep the bikes
together. It also saves a lot of time. We especially like the express toll
lanes where we can ride right through as a group single-file without ever slowing down. Plus, you get a discount on most tolls,
for example $2 off the GW Bridge off peak, 25% off NJ Turnpike. If you
want to ride with us and do not have EZ Pass, we'll accommodate you on a
few trial rides. Then if you decide riding with the Polar Bears is for you,
apply for the pass. It's easy. Some of
our members have the square, white pass mounted to their windshields.
Others use the license plate mount and zip tie it somewhere on their front
forks. You can find out all you need to know and apply here:
www.EZPass.com .
Also, please be sure we welcome all bikes, all brands. Many Connecticut PB riders are on Harleys.
But we don't
discriminate. Randy Tefft, a PB rider from New Hampshire, has joined us on
occasion on his Moto Guzzi. One of our regulars, John Howard, also owns a
Guzzi, but is most often on his Honda ST. Tom is a Gold Wing rider. And one of our own Harley riders actually has a
backup bike -- it's a Honda Gold Wing.
If you have any questions or
concerns about joining us, call me or send an e-mail (my addresses are at
the top of this page or on the contact us page
of this web site).
Bonus Points for Bears:
You can earn bonus points by participating in these
non-Polar Bear rides, as defined in their official rules.
Crotona Midnight Run: Four Points awarded for this midnight to 6 a.m. time trial ride
through Westchester County, NY, in February. This is the oldest
organized motorcycle run in the country. The first one was New Years'
1911. Starts and finishes in Yonkers, NY. Since I've been riding PB I have always wanted to try it, but haven't
worked up the courage to get lost in this part of New York that I don't
know very well. GPS is verboten! "Girlie Men Need Not Apply."
Daytona: Six points awarded for
riding back and forth to Daytona in March. For us CT Bears it is about a
wash with the points you would have earned by staying home and doing both
weekend runs. Another way to look at is that you can go to Daytona and not
miss any PB points. Making the Daytona trip with your bike on a trailer
does not count.
Blood Points:
Two points awarded each time you give blood at the North Jersey Blood
Center, 45 S. Grove St., East Orange. Be sure to credit your donation to
the District Two Account # 2150. CT Bears can pick up another bonus point
by riding a motorcycle to donate. The location is just a few miles away
from the Hooters PB run, 176 miles round trip.
Chilly Chili Run:
Two points plus mileage points for participating in this event sponsored
by the Blue Knights NJ IX, generally New Year's Day, sign-in 9:00
a.m. at Ogdesburg Firehouse, Route 517 n Ogdensburg, NJ. MapQuest says
two-hours travel time and 100 miles one way. The Chilly Chili Ride leaves
under escort at 11:00 a.m., returning at noon for chili, hot dogs and
soda. PB Founder Bob Hartpence warns that this ride fills up quickly. His
recommendation is to arrive at 8:00 a.m. That means us CT Bears would have
to leave here at like 6:00 a.m.
See the
Polar Bear
Grand Tour site weekly for pictures of riders from all over, not
just the Connecticut riders featured on my blog. Grand Tour photos are
mostly taken by Walter Kern. Check out his blog "Motorcycle Views" for
all sorts of useful information and motorcycle news:
http://motorcycleviews.com/
Here is an important message
for motorcyclists and cars . . .
First week bears: back
row, from left, Carl, John J. Bart (first ride), Grumpy, Chris (me) with
new helmet.
Front row, from left, Russ, Captain K., John H.
morning 42◦,
afternoon 64◦, mostly sunny
In Medieval times
winter was a fearful time. Families huddled in their huts, ventured
outside very little, desperately tried to stay warm.
Now as the days get shorter and crisp mornings herald colder nights,
I feel a bit of that winter depression and fear. Maybe it is instinct
left over from caveman days. You know it's coming. You know it is only
going to get colder and colder and darker and darker. This is freakin'
New England. Winter can be rough. There is only one cure for me. Get on
my motorcycle and ride!
Nowadays, I spend my winter Sunday mornings motoring through New
Jersey, exposed to winter's fiercest chill. Yet I enjoy a unique
comfort.
A warm cocoon of silk, teckwick, thinsulate, fleece, wool and codura
retain most all my body heat. What leaks away at 70 miles per hour is
easily replaced by electric threads sewn into my jacket and gloves and
chemical heat packs under my toes.
A long ride to Cape May means an early
morning start for the Connecticut Polar Bears. Carl is getting ready to
ride.
I am blessed to enjoy these adventures with a group of
like-minded riders. They are all as crazy as am I; some are more crazy;
others are less so. Some ride without electric clothing, relying
entirely upon insulation and their own rugged constitutions. Others ride
with electric everything, fingers to toes.
The Polar Bear Grand Tour
is not really meant for us. Most of the rides are in New Jersey, with a
few in Pennsylvania, one in New York and one in Delaware. Even so, the
Bears have graciously embraced us, riding in as we do from Connecticut.
I read about the Polar Bears in a magazine article in 2002. It
sounded like great fun and I took my first ride that year. I have not
missed a season since. As Connecticut riders learned of it, they decided
to join in and today we have a half-dozen stalwarts, plus twenty-some
others who ride when they can. You can read about my first Polar Bear
ride here.
If you would like to join us, we meet at The Dunkin' Donuts in
Stratford, Conn., just off Interstate 95, Exit 30, corner of Lordship
Blvd., and Honeyspot Rd.
Three years ago I started capturing our adventures in this blog. It
turned out to be a lot of fun -- and a lot more work -- than I ever
expected.
Early morning at our Stratford, Conn.
Dunkin' departure.
Last year job difficulties and an unfair share of wicked
weather, meant I missed a lot of rides. My Polar Bear vest of honor now
has a red rocker at the bottom of my short string of gold ones. And the
blog just never got off the ground.
So my few but intrepid readers,
the blog is back!
If you care to read it, you should know a few ground rules.
First and foremost, I write this because I enjoy writing. It
is something I do for myself. It is a wonderful place to exercise the
muse without commercial purpose tainting the outcome.
That said, I do not mind sharing. And I appreciate comments, good and
bad. To that end, I will explore this year double-posting these musings
to Blogspot
www.motorcyclepolarbear.blogspot.com/ where you will have an
opportunity to post your comments and participate in my Polar Bear
musings.
Second, and this is important, I have no obligations to my
readers. I make no warranty, expressed or implied, as to the value of
this narrative. Furthermore, I feel no obligation to report accurately,
or fairly, or even to tell the truth.
Early morning Captain K., background;
Carl, foreground
getting ready to depart.
Third, it may take me most or all of each week to
get this thing written and posted. I am trying to write this on the
train to and from work, during True TV and South Park commercial breaks
and in any other free snippet of time. I make no promise as to the
timeliness or regularity of my postings.
If you want to sign on as a
friend on my Facebook page,
http://www.facebook.com/chris.loynd I will make a wall posting each
time the blog is posted. Otherwise, just keep checking back, it boosts
my Google rating!
I already know I will not make every ride this year.
One ride is already preempted by a weekend getaway with my patient
and understanding (or at least silent suffering) wife. By the way, I
will NOT be answering my cell phone that Sunday morning! I made that
mistake several years ago, taking a call in bed in a Newport bed and
breakfast, from Clark no less, and my wife Cynthia did not appreciate
the interruption. As women do, she will never let me forget the
infraction.
Russ gets ready at 7 a.m.
Certainly I do not have the drive of a Captain K. or
Grumpy who will drive a car or truck through the most hellacious winter
storms, risk life and limb, spend hours in miserable traffic, just to
sign-in to earn their perfect attendance pins.
For rides I miss, I
will reach out to my fellow Connecticut bears for correspondent reports.
Fourth and finally, please remember the opinions expressed in
this blog do not reflect the thoughts of management, nor any authority,
nor good taste even. Advice in this blog is taken at your own risk.
Metaphor, simile, and flat out prevarication are often used in an
attempt at humor.
Your blog may vary. Past blog performance does not guarantee future
results. Blog results not typical. No warranties are expressed or
implied. These claims have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug
Administration. This blog is void where prohibited. Your continued
reading constitutes acceptance of these terms. I am Chris Loynd and I
approve this message.
John Jackson ready to ride.
So here's what happened last Sunday . . .
We were eight. Most all the usual suspects were there, including our
hardest core of John Bears. No, they do not fancy prostitutes, and I am
not making any disparaging potty references. It's just that somehow
three-quarters of the Connecticut Polar Bears have the same first name
and that name happens to be John.
New to our group was Bart. Now there's a great riding name. Actually,
it's a better cowboy name. But it does just as well for a rider,
especially a Harley rider, which Bart is. I guess Bart had a favorable
impression (or he is just a wild optimist) because he signed up to try
and earn the coveted Polar Bear Patch.
Captain K. was definitely rusty on his pack leadership skills.
Usually a very disciplined rider, you can set your cruise control to
John K.'s pace. If you're like me, and do not have cruise control, well
you can just spin that throttle lock tight, sit back, and enjoy the
ride. (See above disclaimer about reading this blog.)
Bart, newest Connecticut Polar Bear
(prospect).
We did a lot of rubber banding. Riding sweep, as I was,
the effect was multiplied. We spent some much time going slow in the
fast lane Winnebagos with handicapped stickers were flying by us on the
right. "Go around them Mother! Dang motorcycles."
Not yielding the
passing lane incensed one cager so much, this nutcase passed a slower
car in the right lane by using the shoulder. That was after trying
several times to break our line.
We arrived in Cape May at just about the right time. We parked close
to the VFW, waited less than half-an-hour, and checked in for our PB
points.
Cape May crowd waiting to claim their PB
points.
I took advantage of the extra time it took Bart to sign up
to purchase some new gear from Len from MLDS.
I splurged on the new,
microwire, top-o'-the-line, Gerbing T-5 heated gloves. You will have to
wait for my review in a future blog. The weather on the ride home never
got cold enough to even turn them on.
Seven-year-old Harley-version Gerbing leather electric gloves were my
previous hand warmers. They worked only so-so. And when it got really
cold, I resorted to a set of down-filled hiking mittens with a chemical
heat pack under my fingers. That combo kept my fingers warm in any
weather, especially when snuggled deep inside my hippo hands.
All registered and recorded we took the weekly group photo.
Bob busy checking in new Bears.
Actually, we did not take it. Johnny B.'s camera decided
to conk out just at that moment and we had to rely upon the kindness of
strangers because my little camera has no tripod mount. Still we got it
done and the Connecticut Bears are recorded for whatever time the
perhaps transient Internet storage offers.
We stopped in at our
favorite sport bar in Cape May for lunch. As was the case last year, we
were their first customers of the day. Being eight in number, they
seemed happy to have us.
We started up the road to Connecticut riding as before . . . too much
as before. So at the first gas stop I offered a word to the wise to our
ride leader. You don't gotta ask twice with the Captain. He quickly
smoothed out his ride technique.
Your blogger enjoying lunch.
The crazies still beat around us a bit. Eight motorcycles
in staggered formation makes for a pretty long line. Most cars are
gracious and stay out of our group.
Things were pretty uneventful on
the ride back until Grumpy started fiddling with his EZ Pass. As we were
crossing to the exit lane on 287 to catch the Merritt Parkway home, I
saw the white cube take one bounce and then slide, spinning for the
shoulder, ahead of my bike.
Wasn't quick enough to catch it on the fly. But I checked my mirrors,
pulled hard on both brakes and dove for the shoulder. I jogged back
south 50 yards and there was Grumpy's EX Pass, intact, resting safely
on the shoulder.
He will have to wait until this week to see if it survived the fall.
Chris trying to figure out the new
controller for his electrics.
Our next ride is another long one, Lewes,
Delaware. I will sneak down the day before to have dinner with the folks
in Wilmington, Del. It saves me getting up early. My Mom delights in
making my favorite foods. And there is sure to be scrapple for
breakfast. (Last year the scrapple was not served in Lewes.)
Hopefully
we will get a bit more quality time with our Flight Leaders Rich and
Dave in Lewes. We always enjoy visiting with them, but they dismissively
waved us off in Cape May. Something to do with a new sign-in system to
manage the always crowded first ride process.
Or maybe they just did not want to hear about the Captain's blood
points so early in the season.
Week two Connecticut
Polar Bears (with a New Jersey Bear thrown in).
From left are: Russ Curtis, John Kammerer, Johnny Bowlan, Chris Loynd
(your blog author),
Matt Goddard (CT Bear Exofficio from New Jersey) and John Howard
(British Expat).
As I often do for this run, I
rode down to Wilmington, Del. Saturday to spend the night with my folks.
It splits off a bit of distance for me on our longest ride of the Polar
Bear season. Plus, taking it in two chunks, I don't have to get up so
dang early for Sunday's ride down from Connecticut. Plus, plus, at this
time of the year there can be quite a temperature difference between
sunrise and a couple hours after.
Saturday I spent too much time
puttering around at home, in part completing the blog from the previous
Sunday's ride to Cape May. By the time I finally got going it was late
afternoon. Saturday started partly sunny, progressed to mostly cloudy
and all afternoon I was thinking the rain predicted for late day just
might catch me if I waited too long to start. It did.
Freakishly warm, the temperature even after the sun went down was 70
degrees. Most of the ride was dry. Now and then I would hit a few areas
where it had rained, recently enough for cars to be throwing spray. But
drops from the sky did not actually fall on me until I was crossing the
Commodore Barry Bridge from Jersey into Pennsylvania. It was like the
Delaware River was a magic rain barrier.
Sometimes you get lucky. Twenty minutes' ride in mild rain and I was
at my folks' house. I rode through the same showers that delayed the
World Series game that night just a few miles north.
Arriving too late to join them, Mom saved a dinner plate for me even
so. As always, she makes my favorites. Saturday night it was fried
eggplant (except now it is heart-healthy baked) and stuffed mushrooms.
Friends of my folks were visiting. Mom and Dad have known their
friend Judy since junior high school. Her friend Jim has been their
friend for years now too.
Judy and Jim own a barbeque place in Gloucester, Mass. I haven't been
there yet. But ever since reading “A Perfect Storm” I have wanted to see
that famous fishing town.
Dad and the rest of us enjoyed the World Series. The Loynd family roots
for the Phillies. Judy and Jim, Red Sox fans, are rooting for the
Phillies too. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
It is a shame they lost, despite Utley's best efforts, I fear the New
York machine, the best baseball that money can buy, is overwhelming. But
as Stephen Colbert said, the Yankee victory is, "proof the free market
system works!"
Next morning when the rest of the Connecticut Bears were saddling up
in the cold dawn, I was enjoying scrapple for breakfast. (It's a
Lancaster County thing.)
It was raining still Sunday morning. How did
they fit a baseball game between bands of rain?
With the weather, cooler now that the front was moving through, I was in
the mood to just motor down state. So I took the new Delaware Route 1
from Interstate 95 which nowadays basically makes a run to the beaches
expressway all the way. Not like the old days I remember growing up in
Wilmington when you had to stop-and-go your way through New Castle and
Dover.
Arriving at our new “South Pole” venue, Irish Eyes Pub, I
gingerly picked my way across the not-so-packed gravel parking lot to a
place where I had enough strength to back the big Harley into a spot
along a grey freight container.
No sooner was I off the bike and out of the helmet, here came my
guys. I motioned them to where I was parked and offered a bit of
reversing assistance, even had to help John H. with his lighter ST. He
immediately made some joke about me “touching” a Honda. Hey, I even rode
one once. John K. offered me his Gold Wing for a Polar Bear ride last
year when my Harley was in the shop.
My bear compatriots arrived just after I
did in Lewes, Del., Sunday. That giant, walking caution light is Matt,
who catches us on en route. Even though he is from Jersey, we have
adopted him as one of our own. Grumpy, standing next to him has a new
camera. Johns H. and K. in background are checking in with their
sweeties; a weekly ritual.
And if we are getting technical, I have spent
hours and hours on Hondas, Suzukis and Kawis, if you include the
training bikes in the Connecticut Rider Education Program. I am a Rider
Coach.
Isn't that Honda Nighthawk a POS? Honda engineering? Drum
brakes front and rear on a modern motorcycle? Really?
Maybe it isn't fair to judge the whole line by all its products. On the
other hand, my Dad bought one of the first Civics sold in the U.S. That
thing was as bad as the Nighthawk. It spent a lot of time in the shop. I
hear the lawnmowers are pretty good.
Even so, the Honda ST seems like a nice bike. But I just don't see me
riding with my heels tucked behind me all day.
Parking was not the best. Gravel,
especially when it
is loose and deep, is not a motorcyclist's friend.
On my Harley I can stretch out, feet on
highway boards (not just pegs) mounted outboard on the engine guards. I
can also sit up straight. Once in a while, I will even tuck my heels
behind me, European style, toes on the back of the riding boards.
(This first segment I was able to write on my train commute to The
Maritime Aquarium at Norwalk Monday morning. This will be the one way I
can find the time to get this blog written.
Last Friday I tried the same thing. But Metro North showed up a couple
'o cars short. I got started on my minibook all the same but in
Fairfield this giant old lady with a cane suddenly slammed herself into
the middle seat next to me. When she shifted her hips to fit, she
bruised mine against the wall of the train.
Some people take up more
than their fair share of the planet.
Our new destination. Something of a
phoenix,
according to Bob Hartpence.
Instead of sitting there smashed
against the window seat for two more stops, I got up and stood until
South Norwalk station stop set me free of the overcrowded car. Even with
the minibook, it's kinda hard to type standing up on a bouncing,
jolting, train car no less..
Needless to say, this morning's ride was
much more civil. I will pick up my narrative on the ride home.)
Back again . . .
So we saunter into the Irish Eyes Pub in
Lewes, Del., the Grand Tour's "South Pole" to sign-in for our Polar Bear
Points. Captain K. was ready with 31, enough to qualify for his rocker
on his second ride.
Polar Bear Grand Poo-bah Bob Hartpence even
memorialized John Kammerer's accomplishment on the Polar Bear Grand Tour
site; check out last week's photos at the bottom, on the Grand Tour
site:
http://www.polarbeargrandtour.com/lew09.htm
“Captain” John K. accomplishes this feat by giving blood all summer
in the name of the Bears. So it is hard to find fault with such
dedication. Coming all the way from Connecticut, we earn about half the
points we need to qualify on the first two rides. Add John K.'s blood
points on top – oh and he also attended the District II Summer Corn Boil
– and well, there you have it.
Even so, John K. almost shorted himself. Not only do you get two points
for donating blood, you also get round trip mileage points if you are
crazy enough to ride your motorcycle to the blood bank and back. John
forgot to take credit for these mileage points, but Flight Leader Rich
came and found us at lunch and called John back to his page in the book
to tally up the extra credits.
And then we have Russ.
"Captain" John K., 31 points. Second ride
of the season.
Note blood points in foreground.
Russ earned his Polar Bear patch years ago
and a few rockers hence. Some years, when he knows family obligations
will diminish his riding opportunities, Russ did not even sign up for
the points. He just rode along for the fun of it. Can you imagine?
Well this year I guess Russ is feeling optimistic. In Cape May he signed
up to earn his points. But when we arrived in Lewes, Russ' page was not
in the book.
Because they are so many in number, the Polar Bears are broken into two
“flights” labeled “A” and “B.” Most all the Connecticut Bears are in
“B.”
When Russ' page was not in the “B” book he started getting all worked
up, as only Russ can. Well, actually, Grumpy can get pretty worked up
too. But, trust me on this, it is safer to laugh at Russ.
Polar Bear sign in, Lewes. That's Flight
B in the foreground, Flight A in the background. Standing in the yellow
shirt is Polar Bear Grand Master Bob Hartpence. Russ is the center of
attention, I am just behind him, John K. at far right.
I even survived laughing at Russ when he was
as angry as I have ever seen him.
We just completed the Iron Butt,
1,000 miles in 24 hours or less, ride. We may be on record for the
ugliest accomplishment of this task. A disasterous early morning start
idea, a lollygagging first half and a pouring rain storm in the last 20
miles had frayed everyone's nerves to the rawest edge of sanity.
Twenty-three-and-a-half hours later, as we are gassing up and getting
our final receipts, it turns out the odometers on John K. and Russ'
bikes are showing just shy of 1,000 miles. Mine was a hair over.
John K. being so much the cross your t's and dot your i's kinda guy,
starts on about how he damn well better qualify for the Iron Butt. Russ
takes the criticism personally because Russ set up the ride.
Russ Curtis.
John was oblivious to Russ'
growing blood pressure. Pretty soon they are nose to nose. Russ was
dropping one leg back, squaring his hips, getting ready for action. He
was quite the boxer on the Navy aircraft carrier during his shipboard
days.
It was at this point Russ threw out the nastiest epithet he
knew. Sputtering he shouts, “John . . . you were in the Navy! And I hate
the Navy!” I roared with laughter. For someone who can curse like a
Sailor, this was Russ' worst. The juxtaposition from what I expected and
what Russ delivered was the funniest thing I have heard my friend say to
this day.
Back in Lewes, Del., I suggested maybe they
put Russ in Flight A since he had dropped out for a year or two. Well it
turns out the new Flight A leader had taken Russ' application last week,
but had not handed it over to our Flight B Leaders. Fortunately Russ'
sheet was right there handy on the Flight A desk ready for insertion in
the Flight B logbook.
Russ started grousing all the same, but Bob Hartpence cooled him fast by
threatening to put Russ in Flight “C.”
Irish Eyes seemed nice enough
and the food was good, if a bit slow in arriving. I ordered “bangers and
mash” because it sounded so delightfully British. Imagine my surprise
when it turns out to be just sausage, mashed potatoes and peas. Geeze!
Back home in Stratford, Connecticut we call that sausage with mashed
potatoes and peas. Being a marketing guy myself, however, I smiled
admiringly, knowing how the right name can boost sales.
Polar Bear Chairman Bob Hartpence.
Johnny B. ordered fish and chips and it
turned out to be fish with french fries. John K. and Russ ordered Irish
stew and it turned out to be stew, so I guess they weren't fooled.
Happy with full bellies and bulging Polar Bear points sheets we posed
for our weekly group picture then suited up for the long ride home.
If you read last week's blog, one of the things I promised was a review
of my new Gerbing T-5 electric gloves, purchased from Len in Cape May.
Well it was still too warm to turn them on. I did not even wear them on
the ride down.
But for the ride home I pulled them on and plugged them
in. Still it remained warm as we rode north. When we stopped for gas,
just before the Delaware Memorial Bridge, it was one of those deals
where we gassed up but then reassembled in a parking area.
Flight B Leaders, Dave, left, and Rich,
right.
John K. had missed the turn for the bridge.
So I knew I was going to get off the bike right away. Which meant after
I gassed up, I just pulled on my gloves, rode over to the parking area
and got off to offer the Captain a bit of local Delaware navigation
advice, once a former resident of these parts myself.
We conferred. We
mounted up. And off we went.
John ignored my advice, doggedly stuck to I-95 North, despite numerous
signs pointing to “New Jersey, New York, Delaware Memorial Bridge.”
Grumpy finally flew up from the sweep position, threw a lariat over
Captain's handlebars and led him off the proper exit.
Over the bridge now, onto the NJ Turnpike, we steamed for home.
As we reached north to the Garden State Parkway, and the clouds
cleared just enough to show a sundown, it started to, gasp, get cold.
Not Polar Bear cold. But chilly.
Suiting up for the ride home are John K.
and un-missable Matt in yellow in the background.
Here's my chance! I turned up the gloves with
my new dual “temptroller” thermostat. My hands were warm enough. But not
hot. For miles I fiddled with the switch. Weak.
In the last 30 miles to the top of the Garden State where we always stop
for coffee, I was getting aggravated. My hands were getting cold.
Figuring the gloves and controller were new, I started blaming my
120,000 + miles Springer. How long does an alternator last? Maybe this
thing just wasn't putting out the current. I am aggravated but
forgiving. Next I try flipping the switch to turn off the passing lamps,
hoping more current will be available to warm my fingers. No effect. Now
I am figuring how, and who, and when, I can get it fixed.
As we pulled into the rest area to gas up I
pulled off my glove and it came free immediately.
In my plan for a temporary on-off to talk with John K. at the last gas
stop, way down in Delaware, I had not gone through the formal procedure
of linking the gloves to the sleeves of my electric jacket. Electric
gloves don't work without electricity.
We all had a good chuckle at that one. Of course there is not a rider
who at some point hasn't left without plugging something in or has never
ridden off with a saddlebag lid flopping because it was left unlatched.
When I did connect the gloves to the power source of my motorcycle, they
performed wonderfully. Hey, I guess I learned the gloves are pretty well
insulated too. They kept me warm even without electricity.
Unlike my old gloves, these heat instantly. You can feel the warmth all
around your fingers. It wasn't really cold enough to give them a really
good test. But hey, it's only the second ride of the season.
See this blog entry with an opportunity to comment on Blog Spot:
http://www.motorcyclepolarbear.blogspot.com/
I am still experimenting with Blog Spot, but it has several tools built
in that I have not taken the time to figure out how to duplicate here.
One is that you can comment. Two is if you "follow" the blog, it will
send you an alert to let you know when a new one is posted. Third,
because it is type only, I will be able to post to it a bit sooner than
here.
NOTE:
Not all the CT Bears are getting e-mail alerts. I switched to a new
Outlook e-mail program and may have lost some of you in the process. If
you want to be on the distribution list for departure times, or used to
get the alerts but do not now, send me an e-mail at:
chris@influentialcom.com
Week 3 Bears. Let's try
this from left to right, regardless of rows. Follow the heads . . .
John H., John K., Russ, John J., Matt, Nick, Chris (your blogger),
Ralphie (new guy), Bart & Johnny B.
Near 70 degrees. Bright,
cloudless blue sky.
We did not have as big a turnout as I would have thought. Despite a
beautiful day and temperatures predicted for the high sixties, we had
nine bikes; 10 riders with Johnny B.'s grandson Nick. Maybe some of our
bears were busy with raking leaves, or chose shorter rides.
Sunday we picked up a new bear. Ralphie Fonseca, a fellow Connecticut
Rider Education Program instructor. He signed up for the full deal in
Old Bridge. Ralphie is now a Polar Bear Flight B.
We had a great time. The shorter run and warm weather and beautiful day
made for high spirits all around. Well not quite everyone was in full
revelry. John K. seemed impatient and more snarky than usual.
Newest Polar Bear Ralphie Fonseca.
He had reason to celebrate. Today Bob Hartpence, Polar
Bear Grand Pooh-bah, had John's red rocker. Bob's getting hip to the
Captain. In past years, Bob had not even thought of ordering the
season's patches and rockers when John K. had already earned his first
30 points.
Bob told me a story Sunday about how he was really looking forward to
handing John K. his rocker that day, our third ride of the season. Bob
called the patch company Saturday morning to see why they had not
delivered. I guess he put the order in extra early. Of course the
company was closed Saturday. Bob left a message on the answering machine
and went back out to his yard to, like many of us I bet, rake leaves. No
sooner was he started again at his task than the mailman hailed him, “I
have a box for you, Bob.” Bob went back inside and left another message
on the patch company's answering machine, “never mind.” And with fanfare
and a hearty handshake, he presented John K. the first Polar Bear rocker
of the season.
John Kammerer holding first Polar Bear
rocker
of the season, presented by Bob Hartpence.
Photo by Nick.
Still John was snippy. He was anxious to get off to lunch.
He accused us of lollygagging, of being “tourists” he taunted Grumpy
when Johnny B. was having trouble with his new camera for the group
shot. Hmmm. What's up?
We all kid each other, and generally John K. takes and gives as good as
anyone.
Then it hit me! A vision of Nancy Pelosi flashed in my brain. And I
smiled. I whispered to John, “It's the health care bill, isn't it?” John
replied, “It ain't law yet.”
It's okay John. It's only money, money that none of us have, including
the government.
I don't know if the Captain's attitude improved with a
bit of lunch. Denny's did not have a table big enough for all of us. We
sat at two.
Captain John K.
Photo by Nick.
We reassembled in the parking lot, with the Captain
walking around the bikes whipping us into shape, exhorting us to button
up faster.
We rode a very short distance to gas up for the ride home. Somehow I was
the last one out. My fellow bears would likely say I am always the last
one out, dressed, ready to ride, etc.
At the top of the Garden State we stopped for coffees. It was the usual
torture to get our order assembled and paid. The servers at the Dunkin'
Donuts in the rest stop at the top of the Garden State Parkway are so
slow you can actually test Einstein's Theory of Relativity.
Here's an example. John H. treated us all. As such, he was stuck being
the last to leave the counter, paying after we all carried our drinks
away to a table. We were all sitting and enjoying our hot drinks, but
John H. was back in time still trying to figure out the bill with the
slow clerks.
John H. tackled a much easier line at K
of C
in Old Bridge to get his Polar Bear points.
Buying coffee turned out to be a lot tougher.
Photo by Nick.
He finally caught up to our time, but just as
he was about to sit down, it turned out that two of the coffees did not
have milk. John H. had to go back, back in time, back to the counter to
retrieve creamers. Just as he was about to catch up to our time, there
were no stirrers for the recently retrieved cream. Back in time John H.
went again. As John H. kept going back in time, we were all progressing
forward, drinking our hot drinks. When John H. finally got a chance to
sit down, he was now way behind us in time.
Chris, your blogger, came to the rescue. By being slower than most
normal coffee drinkers, Chris was able to retard present time enough for
John H. to catch up and drink his coffee.
So except for the frustration of multiple forays back in time, oh and
the “pleasure” of paying for coffees and hot chocolates for a bunch of
whining, ungrateful, riding buddies, John H. finally caught up to drink
his coffee in present time.
As we got ready to go in the parking lot, my special time talents were
recognized by Russ. He said , I think derisive, about not even turning
on his motorcycle until I had my helmet on and my bike off the sidestand.
Even-tu-ally . . . I did. And off we roared home to Connecticut.
See you next week. I will be the one rolling in just moments before the
rest of us are ready to leave next Sunday morning.
Note a certain similarity? At
left is Top Bear Bob Hartpence,
at right, Bear Cub Ralphie, as they complete sign-up paperwork.
Jackets off, Connecticut Bears
enjoy an Indian Summer day.
Waiting for a table, from left, Matt, John H., Russ and Ralphie.
Johnny B. enjoys lunch with his
grandson Nick.
That's big Matt at far left, still years away from grandkids.
John Jackson enjoys the sun
waiting for Dennys.
He entertained us with stories of explosions.
Captain John K. is all smiles.
Already a red rocker and well on his way to gold!
John K. has become one of the most ambitious Polar Bears. Not
for glory. But because he can.
He's a rider. This summer John completed an Iron Butt Saddle
Sore
inadvertently one day as he
cruised across the Midwest. When John finally decided to pull
in, he had a 1,050 mile day.
You can also see a Blog Spot version of this
blog where you can get automatic notifications when it is posted,
usually before the picture version, and make comments, bring it on!
http://motorcyclepolarbear.blogspot.com/
Here's a shout-out from Russ:
Hi Chris, Len the" Gerbing Guy" replaced a five (5) year old
harness that broke this past week for free. Maybe you can give him a
shout of thanks in this weeks blog.
Unfortunately your blogger Chris Loynd was busy at The Maritime
Aquarium this Sunday. I was working with a troop of Girl Scouts from
Monroe to build a wigwam to promote our showing of "Where the Wild
Things Are" appearing now in IMAX.
So I put out an invitation to my fellow Connecticut Bears for
correspondent reports. Here, with a bit of minor editing, are their
reports.
Wigwam with Monroe Girl Scout and Leader.
From Captain John Kammerer:
We had a good turnout for Port Jervis, N.Y. Roll call in order of
appearance were: Russ, Johns K., J. and B., Bernie, Rollin (Rolly)
Dawlin, Steve D., William (Billy) Gargone, John H., Bart, and Matt G.
(Full names provided for our new riders.)
We formed up and departed Dunkin' Donuts at 9 a.m. sharp with John J.
taking the lead and John K. as sweep. Heading south on Interstate 95,
the route turned onto Route 25 north into Newtown, Conn.
(Editor's Note: Newtown retains a bit of its Yankee charm with a
flagpole right in the middle of main street. Here the Conn. Bears turned
right and a short distance down the road merged onto Interstate 84 west
at speed.)
John J. took exit 2B to pick up our more northerly members, the
group arriving at 9:45 on the dot with John H. and Bart scrambling to
get going.
Port Jervis attracted some new riders for
the Connecticut Polar Bears. Here new Bears Billy, left, and Rolly,
center, chat with Bernie, right, a Bear of several seasons.
Once the two final bears finally caught up, John J.
settled the group into a steady pace west for the Delaware River.
We
encountered fog at mile marker 57 in New York. It lasted for two to
three miles. Visibility was a hundred feet or so.
The group navigated the mist without mishap arriving at Cornucopia at
11:10 a.m. Adopted Conn. Bear Matt was there already and after the group
photo by John B., we went inside to check-in and have lunch.
As sweep I was trying to keep track of everyone. (Editor's note: The
Captain takes his Road Captain duties very seriously.) During lunch I
was looking everywhere for Steve D. and finally realized he bailed
without saying a word to anyone. (Editor's note: Considered poor Polar
Bear manners when riding in a group.)
Bernie, right, expresses his satisfaction
with
the Captain's, left, sweeping abilities?
At 12:15 we left the restaurant and headed to the gas stop
on the New Jersey side and yes, John H. was right about the crash site!
After fueling we headed east on Interstate 84 to our pit stop at the
Starbucks in Danbury, Conn., exit 2, arriving at 1:30 p.m. This week
John J. treated.
John H. split off at Interstate 684 to head for Ridgefield. Billy G.
left after coffee.
We were on the road eastbound by 2:10 and Bart split off at Route 7
north. From Interstate 84 the group took the more scenic Route 34 south.
I arrived home at about 2:50 p.m.
It was a great day with good company and I managed to piss off
everyone by noon.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Last sighting of Steve D., far back,
center.
Otherwise sharing the moment are, from left,
Polar Bear Chairman Bob H., Steve D., Russ and John H.
Next report from a
first-season Connecticut Bear . . .
From Bart Cole:
Because of the early morning rain and wet roadways, I had decided to
leave a little later and hook up with John H. at exit 2. After receiving
my text with my change of plans, John H. called John K. to let him know
that I would not be coming down to Stratford and not to wait. John K.'s
response to the Token (John H.) was basically, "what the hell do I
care!" It's just so nice to be loved and embraced by John K.!
Then when the boyz rolled down exit 2 to meet up with John and I, upon
being waved into the pack I didn't give my Dyna Low Rider enough
throttle and proceeded to stall the engine. John K. took note of this as
he saw me rolling back to restart my bike.
We rode through some dense fog in spots on I-84.
We had some major issues at the Newburgh Bridge toll. The EZ-Pass
wasn't reading our tags and the toll booth attendant proceeded to
give some of the guys a hard time for trying to drive through. John J.,
Russ, Grumpy and myself made it through and had to wait for a good five
minutes plus for the others to rejoin the ranks.
From left: Bernie, Bart (correspondent),
John J.'s head and John K.
Stopped at the Starbucks off exit 2 on the way back. John
J. treated everyone to their favorite beverage. Grumpy didn't care for
his hot chocolate. He claimed it tasted like a dark or semi-sweet cocoa.
I'm sure the others will fill you in on some of the other events. Some
guy, I think named Steve, rode up with us and then disappeared without
telling anyone!
The day was so short that I didn't know what to do
with myself when I got home so early.
Even Russ busted on you in your absence for you propensity to take
forever to get your gear on and be ready to roll after we stop. Russ was
being Russ!
You were missed Chris!
Flight B Leaders, Rich and Dave at Port
Jervis.
From one of our founding
Connecticut Bears, everyone's favorite people person, Grumpy . . .
From Johnny Bowlan:
Hi Chris! I hope your project went well. We missed you.
We had 10 bikes and riders today. Weather was great; we needed no
heated gear at all.
The ride up was good. We had to stop only once for a red light. John
J. did well for his second, maybe third, time leading the group.
Ten bikes may be too much. Next time we might want to break it up
into two groups.
We got there after 11:00, stood around shooting the (stuff) and took
the group photo.
Nice days have been turning out a lot of
riders.
Lunch was edible. The menu included: French toast, chili
and rice, something the server said was mini-sausage meatloaf, a chicken
dish and mac and cheese.
About 12:30 we headed out to New Jersey for
gas, missing Steve D. He left after taking the group shot.
Then toward home we went. We had some problems at the toll on
Interstate 84. It took a little while for everyone to get through. Guess
this is another toll road we can't use.
(Editor's note: We have had troubles before on the last parkway toll
before the GW Bridge. Captain had a famous gate-busting adventure there
a few years back.)
We lost the Brit at exit 2 as we got off for coffee.
Some of the Connecticut boys at lunch,
from left, John J., adopted Matt and Bart.
No Dunkin' Donuts, so it was Starbucks. It was
a small place so we got our drinks and went outside to chat.
We then
saddled up for home, losing people along the way.
It was a NICE day, there I go using four letter words again.
Next report from this week's
ride leader.
All paragraph and sentence breaks are best guess estimates by the blog
editor . . .
From John Jackson:
Hello Blog-master,
Sunday morning arrived a little misty and 58 degrees. Side roads were
covered with slippery, wet leaves, so the ride to Dunkin' Donuts was
slow and steady. That will be an important standard for the day.
When I got to Dunkin' Russ and John K. were enjoying their hot
beverage of choice already. John K. informed me that this Dunkin' Donuts
was now offering Same Day Service. So I took them up on it, and damned
if it wasn't true! I got a muffin and a cappuccino within five minutes!
By the time I got back, Bernie and Rollie had arrived. Later came
Steve D., who was greeted appropriately by Russ, Johnny B. and finally
Bill.
Enjoying a laugh in Port Jervis, from
left, John J. (led this week's ride), Polar Bear Chief Bob H., and
Token.
John K. asked, to no-one in particular, looking at Russ
and I, "Who's leading today?" Russ answered in the negative, so, by
default, I said I would. I had it in my GPS.
John K. and I briefly
discussed the route to the meeting point on Interstate 84 where we were
picking up John H. and Bart. Taking Interstate 95 to Route 25 to Newtown
to Interstate 84 was the preferred route.
Promptly at 9 a.m. we lined up and off we went. As I was reading my
GPS, I noticed the "arrive" time was 11 a.m. So I planned to keep the
pace on the moderate side after we picked up our two northern polar
bears, which we did at precisely 9:45.
Onto Interstate 84 west, the train of 10 bikes sauntered.
Speed limit 65 mph, I set my cruise control at 64.
Weather was gray
with some hint of sun breaking through off to the southwest. But up
ahead it was just clouds. We rode through a cloud going up one one those
mountains. Visibility was next to nil, so I kept the pace down a little.
I didn't want to slow down too much to prevent riders from bunching
up unexpectedly. And I stayed in the lane we were in because I sure as
heck could not see my sweep John K. in my mirrors. If he was clearing a
lane for me, I couldn't tell.
After about a mile of clouds, we broke through. I do NOT like not
being able to see ahead!
New Connecticut Bear Rolly looks like
he's checking something in the mirror upon arrival in Port Jervis, N.Y.
I cranked the speed back up to a blistering 63
mph and the GPS still says "arrive" at 11:01.
We got stuck behind a
creepy crawling Toyota Camry on the Newburg bridge, doing about 45 to 50
mph. I saw this as an opportunity to knock our arrival time back a notch
or two, so I stayed behind, later to be ragged-on mercilessly by our
Captain when we arrived and unsaddled at 11:10.
John K. is the best sweep that I have ridden with. He just KNOWS when
you want to change lanes. I look in my mirror for a lane change and he
is already there, waiting for me to turn on my signal. Perhaps this is
why he was so fast to comment on why I stayed behind that slow poke on
the bridge.
Anyway, we arrived, all 10 of us, early.
Bob Hartpence (Polar Bear Chairman) was out in the parking lot and
came over to say hello. We took the group shot, Johnny B. having figured
out his new camera's timer mechanism. Then we went to sign-in and have a
lunch a litle before 11:30.
The buffet this year was pretty good: chili, biscuits and gravy, mac
and cheese, little meatloaf patties in gravy and some sort of chicken
thing, all very edible.
During lunch I asked where Steve D. was. Nobody had seen hide nor
hair of him. When we finished lunch and went outside, I, being the
leader, searched down the line of bikes where we parked and noticed that
Steve's custom painted Fat Boy was no longer there. Some metric cruiser
of a similar color was parked where Steve's bike used to be. John K.
asked where Steve was. Nobody had heard from him. The evidence pointed
to him no longer being anywhere near the Cornucopia anymore, so I felt
secure in leaving as a group of nine, knowing the tenth had gone on by
himself.
The ride back was at a more brisk pace, more like my speed, cruise
control set higher and throttled up to pass the occasional slow moving
truck.
Back at Port Jervis it had been decided that we would stop for coffee
at Starbucks in Danbury, off Exit 2, which we did. John H., having to be
home early, rode on. And Bill left before we went to get coffee.
I treated, with the caveat that if you wanted anything special, you
would have to pay for it yourself. Of course Johnny B. took this to mean
I would not buy him his hot chocolate. But I calmed him down with the
explanation that "special" meant lattes, cappuccinos and espresso
drinks. Bernie slipped a frappuchino by me anyway!
So after we were all properly juiced up with Starbucks caffeine
enriched coffee we continued on our way.
Bart took off up Route 7 and various others slipping out of my
slipstream as we wound our way back down Route 34, arriving home at 3:10
on a 70 degree afternoon.
The day was very enjoyable. John K. exaggerates his power to piss
off. I think he does an admirable job. But we all look forward to it,
the same way we look forward to Russ' crude innuendo.
That's MY story, and I'm sticking to it.
Finally, here is Russ'
report . . .
From Russ:
John K. missed me. I don't think I was pissed off all day. I did miss
Chris not showing 'till the last second.