Polar Bear Blog 2007/2008

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.

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 Wednesday after our Sunday ride.

Join the CT Polar Bear Riders!

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. And Walter Kern, the PB Webmaster, has his own super motorcycle site, Motorcycle Views: http://motorcycleviews.com/. 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.

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. The 2007 ride is Saturday, February 10^th. 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."

Sponsored by the Ramapo MC Club:
http://www.ramapomc.org/Crotona07.pdf
http://www.ramapomc.org/index.htm

Photos:
http://www.ramapomc.org/Crotona 2005.html

 Stories by participants:
http://www.motorcyclecruiser.com/rideanddest/new_york_crotona_midnight_run/index.html
http://www.roadtwist.com/crotona.html
http://www.dccycles.com/arch/1996/02/feb00068

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.

Chilly Chili Run:
Two points plus mileage points for participating in this event sponsored by the Blue Knights NJ IX. The 2007 ride is 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.

http://www.dothetest.co.uk/

So in the midst of some very un-polar weather, a bunch of the CT Bears rode from Stratford, CT to Bridgewater, NJ.

Allowing for the distance we had to travel, we got there before the Corn Boil corn actually boiled. We did manage to get coffee, Entenmann's pastries (a plug honoring our retired "cakeologist" Russ) and just before we left, some good hamburgers. We could not resist after being well fumigated in the tasty-smelling grill smoke which seemed to follow us everywhere we sat.

John K. also sent me the photo at right. He continues to clock some serious miles on his 1997 Harley-Davidson Road King.

John K's bike this summer.
His Odometer reads "222,222"

Chris Loynd's bike this summer.
My first 100,000 miles.

This week's blog is compiled from reports by "Captain" John Kammerer and Johnny "Grumpy" Bowlan.

Your blogger, Chris Loynd, had a more important engagement last Sunday. I helped my father-in-law celebrate his 80th birthday. Along with my wife Cynthia, daughter Annie and son Trever, I drove in a driving rain down the western side of New Jersey Saturday.

Fortunately for the Bears, Saturday rained itself out and Sunday was sunny. John K. says "crisp but clear." Not bad for bear weather!

And yes, I did consider (for a brief moment) the possibility of riding my bike down to her parents' home in Easton, Md., then shooting across Maryland and Delaware to catch the Cape May ferry.  Missing that PB pin was well worth the quality time spent with family last weekend.

Fortunately, no one was killed. After hitting the median at speed on the Garden State Parkway near Tom's River, a Toyota Avalon flipped over twice then decelerated rapidly with the aid of a tree. Passengers were ejected from the back seat. Only the driver was wearing his seatbelt. And people say motorcycles are dangerous! Bears caught in the traffic jam had to wait for helicopters to land on the Parkway and carry victims away.

Personally, not being a Connecticut native, I think our state has drivers worse than Jersey's. Ours are a hybrid of the nastiness of New York City crossed with the craziness of Boston.

One of our New Jersey readers (not yet a PB rider), Douglas Colfer, sent the following note after reading our first blog posting:

Chris & Gang,

John H. and Chris (your blogger) started our Lewes Polar Bear journey a day early to spend some time with Delaware residing family members. I say "residing" not "resident" to honor John who is paying "out of state" tuition for his daughter to attend University of Delaware in Newark. My folks are residents, as I was once, living in suburbs north of Wilmington.

I enjoyed catching up with my folks and doing a few chores, including setting a new mailbox post.

Chickens are still a very big part of Delaware still, though now for eating, not fighting. Broilers are the state's number one agricultural export. Tiny Delaware ranks eighth in the nation for poultry production. Delaware farmers (mostly their wives) raised 45,649,977 chickens in 2002. Chickens outnumber people in Delaware by about 60 to one.

With the remnants of hurricane Noel churning off shore, John and I departed not too early Saturday morning. We did catch some wind. But with the exception of one notable gust near the approach to the GW Bridge, the riding was rather fine. Warm for Polar Bear weather. And by luck we got out early enough to avoid any rain. The sun even came out late Saturday afternoon.

Reviewing the weather radar before leaving Saturday morning, I knew the farther south we rode the better our chances of missing the rain. That's mainly because Connecticut juts out east above New York. Therefore, heading south through our state also means you're heading west. In fact, directions among local residents remain confused to this day. Even Interstate 95  – which by its odd (versus even) route number is Federally recognized as a North-South highway – offers both North-South and East-West designations on signs at different spots on the same road.

So although the offshore hurricane was following the Gulf Stream up the coast, it didn't slam back into land until Boston and Cape Cod, which stick out far enough to intercept it. Connecticut, mostly the eastern half of the state, got a glancing blow. But long before that landfall, John H. and I were safely riding through sunny Delaware.

Our Saturday departure was timed to allow John H. and I adequate time with our family members. Plus, John H. had a few extra stops to make on his ride. He is participating in the AMA's GPS tour. Like the HOG ABC's of touring contest (mentioned before in this blog), John H. has to take a picture of him, his bike and a sign designating proof that he found the spot. Oh, and he also had a goofy little flag, I suppose to prove the year of the contest.

Sunday morning at 6:30 a.m. (while I was still blissfully sleeping) John K. and Tom were leaving Stratford, Conn. for the ride south (and west). I'm not sure when John H. got on the road.

We all ended up at Fisherman's Wharf in Lewes within half an hour of each other. A very nice buffet of chicken and vegetables with apple cobbler dessert was set for a rather reasonable $10.

Fortunately we all held our footing on the nervy bit of boards and got the photo you see at the top of this week's entry.

Not to worry PB Rulers, John K. will continue to donate in your name, extra points or no. In fact, he and I plan to ride down November 15th. I include myself, because for all the fun I make of John, there are at least a couple of blood-letting extra points entries on my sign-in sheet from last year too. Hey, it's an excuse to ride!

Meanwhile, we enjoyed a meal and a bit of story telling but were soon headed home.

A long day for John K. and Tom, we were treated to a typical ride home with the usual bit of construction, toll booth slow downs, and volume traffic.

Now the NJ Turnpike Police have upped the ante. I have to give credit where it's due boys, the Thule rack is a very nice touch. Now go out and catch some of those high speed, multi-lane weavers who are so fond of your toll ways.

Meanwhile, our CT bears will be motoring along on our bikes, enjoying the cachet of being out in winter when most riders have surrendered their steeds 'til springtime.

It is always fun to meet folks who enjoy reading my weekly missives. And I apologize for not being more polite this time. One of the fun things about riding the Polar Bear circuit is the instant camaraderie we all enjoy by virtue of our shared insanity.

We can't promise an amazing story every week. But you know as well as I that one never can tell what will happen when friends saddle up and ride together. Thanks for reading!

Chilly. Sunny. Perfect for Polar Bear riders. Our Connecticut crew enjoyed a leisurely ride down and back up the New Jersey toll ways. We arrived in Old Bridge a little before noon and ended up on the side of the road because the parking lots were full beyond capacity.

I parked in a pile of pine needles between the road and the parking lot, preferring that to the grass past the pavement in the back. John K. and Tom basically took similar positions along the outer edge of already parked bikes, perhaps pushing the legal limits of the parking lot proper.

As you can see by the photo at right, Matt stands above the crowd. He was gracious enough to take our CT Bears' group photo of the week, saving me 15 tortured minutes of setting up my very pack-able, barely manageable, Rube Goldberg tripod.

The tripod fits into a saddlebag. It stands maybe four feet tall but collapses into less than nine inches. The hardest part of using it is getting the spidery-thin legs to lock into place whilst my fellow bears lob comments and criticisms from their posing place.

Longtime blog readers may recall from last year that I first met Matt when he used the blog to find fellow riders for a jaunt to Daytona. His new wife was willing to drive his truck and trailer by herself, while Matt rode alongside on his bike. I could not find a reference in the blog, but I also seem to recall in my fuzzy memory that Matt's wife is some sort of travel expert and found them some sweet Daytona lodgings for free. Yup, she's a keeper.

Outside socializing in the sunshine, I also met Mike from the Ocean Thunder HOG Chapter out of Lakewood, NJ. He came up and introduced himself and we chatted about the blog.

From the looks of some group pictures, Ocean Thunder HOG turns out some big numbers for PB rides.

Mike said he hasn't seen Patrick around as much this past year. But if it wasn't Pat, someone took pictures last Sunday and posted them on his web site. Hopefully I can run into Patrick at a future PB meet. Unless he shaves, he should not be hard to spot.

I also made the offer to Mike, and now to you, if you have a comment you would like to make in this blog, send me an e-mail for consideration: chris@influentialcom.com

The new owner of our dealership, Fritz Blau, also owns Fritz's Harley-Davidson in Stamford, Conn., and that HOG Chapter has a cool name, "Ghost Chapter." Maybe with a new owner we'll get a cool new name? "Haunted HOG" has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Unfortunately for us, coming from Connecticut, we do not have so much time to socialize at the PB meets as I would like. Some of our riders frown on riding in the dark. And with the hours we have to ride home, dark comes up pretty fast in winter.

One advantage of the shorter days is you get those beautiful long-shadow lighting effects. Riding down the Merritt in the morning the leaves were spectacular, lit up by slanting rays of a still rising sun. Our part of the state seems right about peak for fall colors, maybe a tad past. We all commented on how many green leaves were still on the Jersey trees. Crossing the Tappan Zee into New York the far bank of the Hudson was still mostly green with bright yellow and orange splashes only dotting the landscape so far.

We passed on the K of C's boiled hot dogs and therefore left even earlier this week to find some lunch. We ended up at a huge diner, 'pert near the turnpike. Our waiter provided much of the entertainment. His haircut, thin face and fidgeting mannerisms reminded me of a chicken. But that takes us back to the Lewes blog entry. (Tom commented that our waiter's feet never actually touched the floor.)

Fortunately our luncheon dilemma forced us back toward the turnpike. Route 18 turns rural right there at the truck cap place and we were doubtful of our restaurant choices farther on south.

I say fortunately because my two GPS disabled riding partners kept arguing for a return wholly on the Garden State Parkway. Actually they suggested Parkway all the way at the very start of our ride.

The way we come, we do travel down the GSP because we take the Tappan Zee bridge across the Hudson. George Washington's namesake bridge is almost always too crowded and crazy.

I said then, and stand by it now, that the GSP was out of the way this week because of it's eastern course after it crosses the turnpike. Old Bridge does stand somewhat in the middle of the fork. But it's a straight shot up and down 18 to the turnpike. The GSP would have required us to go south on 18 to go north on 9 to intercept the GSP just moments before it crosses the turnpike.

My theory is that these GPS guys get used to only seeing two miles at a time on their tiny screens and thereby lose the bigger picture. Since I still rely upon printed maps, I believe I have a better spatial sense of the geography and route. Except for a moment's confusion at turnpike Exit 9, I got us down and back in good order.

I balked at that darn Route 18 North/South exit. For THIS ride we do in fact go south. For the ride to Sir John's in North Brunswick, we go North on 18. I got confused on the North Brunswick ride last year and I guess the memory lingered with me this year. I shoulda' checked my blog before the ride, not after. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Fool that I am, I succumbed to the weather forecast. Photos above are from our return ride. (I saw the old fashioned Christmas decorations on the way into town and liked them for our weekly group photo.) If you saw a picture of me on the ride over to Port Jervis, I had my rain jacket over my leather.

Radar maps showed snow and rain headed our way from the west. TV forecasters confidently called for intermittent rain showers, mixed with snow.

Maybe it was my reluctance to ride in the rain. Perhaps too it was the extra time required to add extra layers and suit up for anticipated bad weather. In any case, I was lagging.

Well, what the heck! I've ridden in worse. I suited up, extra layers for warmth and rain protection, and headed over to our departure rendezvous. Late. Annoyingly late for a by-the-book guy like John K. Turns out later Ken told me he and John K. were fruitfully engaged in working out some CB radio issues anyway.

As it turned out, if I had been on time, we would have arrived in Port Jervis too early.

Pulling up next to Ken, I flipped up my helmet and asked, "Were you waiting for a prediction of rain to ride with us?" He just laughed. Last year, the first time Ken joined us was for our ride to Old Bridge under threat of rain the whole way there and back. It never did actually rain on us on that ride.

Meanwhile the scenery was spectacular. Fall fell late this year. Looking back at last year's blog entry for this ride, I commented on the amazing willow trees, bright and yellow against their brown and leafless fellow trees. This year the willows were silvery green. Most trees still had leaves, however with their color largely spent. It was a landscape shaded mostly brown and gold.

Another rider told me snow was accumulating in his part of Jersey. He too opted for four wheel transportation. Others showed up in full rain suits.

We expected, and fortunately never found, some of the same.

Weak Polar Bear numbers must have disappointed our restaurant hosts. Is it the wisdom of our PB organizers or just serendipity that they have us at an eatery named "Cornucopia" the Sunday before Thanksgiving?

True to the traditional symbol for our national eating holiday, Cornucopia puts out a "horn of plenty" buffet. Sitting around eating an excellent lunch, we commented on the vagaries of restaurant management.

Turns out Chief Morel was on most of the diesel subs left in the Navy during his service. This includes some "guppy" subs of smaller size. In line with naval tradition, most of these were named after fish. (I did not take notes. I think "Mackerel" was one. I am pretty sure "Flounder" did NOT come up.)

We enjoyed sharing our varied opinions all the same. Ken thinks sliding down sub ladders cost him a few years' use of his knees. John K. damaged his crawling across ceilings, balancing on rafters by only his knees as he wired alarm systems in his youth.

All the same, our lunches were finished. So we saddled up and enjoyed a scenic, largely uneventful, ride back across Route 84.

John K. and I stopped for a coffee close to home, Ken having taken an alternate route by then. We struck up another whole line of conversation about our career adventures, including firings and entrepreneurial challenges. But I've written enough for this week.

Sir:

Each Monday after a Polar Bear Ride (B Flight) I have a choice after work and dinner. Either sit down with my coffee and channel changer and go through 100 channels with nothing on or read your blog.

Since I had Army training this weekend I couldn't make the run. After reading your latest Cornucopia entry and sharing this time with my wife, we both came to the realization: throw out the TV and wait for the entry on Monday. It is storytelling in the truest sense of a community newspaper.

When my wife read about your reasons for delay, she said the only difference between you and I was that going out to my garage to get the bike to ride, I'm also delayed as a result of stepping on landmines left my my dog.

Dave Moore

AKA First Sgt.

Another one of our CT PB riders, Russ Curtis, is also former Navy and was stationed on an aircraft carrier, the USS Essex, CVS-9. An interesting connection between Russ and our submariners, Russ' carrier was outfitted for anti-submarine duty. I could fill pages with Russ' Navy adventures. If you see him at one of the PB meets, well, just wind him up, then sit back and enjoy.

USS Essex, CVS-9

One thing I am very thankful for is the Polar Bear volunteers who put in so much of their time so we have a fun excuse to go riding all winter. Thanks guys!

When I first started riding, a magazine editor asked me a seemingly simple question, "What is so special about riding a motorcycle?" I did not have a good answer.

That was frustrating for me. I am a professional writer. My avocation is story teller. Certainly I could put into words what made riding a motorcycle so addictive. (A hundred-thousand miles later I may have succeeded in a small part. My essay follows this blog entry.)

John H. rode up from Ridgefield to Stratford, Conn., Sunday morning to meet us at the Dunkin' Donuts for a spot of coffee and camaraderie. He said it was the closest Dunkin' he could find. Hmmm? Well, it probably was the closest Dunkin' with motorcycles at 8:30 on a November morning. Any excuse to ride!

Why do we ride?

The answer is far more complex than the question.

Clark, whom I have mentioned in earlier blog entries, took his brand new Harley V-Rod for its maiden voyage on a Polar Bear ride. That was back before the blog. If you will tolerate a quick diversion, I will tell you how I nearly ended up as a feature on one of those "Wildest Police Videos" television shows.

Clark did not tell us it was his first ever ride on the V-Rod. He met us in Jersey with the gleaming machine. This was the first year the V-Rod was introduced and Clark took delivery in November. He offered to lead, which he rarely did.

What we did not know was that Clark was still breaking in the motor and therefore wanted to keep the speed below 50 mph. So instead of jumping back on the Turnpike or Parkway, Clark offered a "scenic" route on local roads. Next thing we knew we were riding through Newark and Elizabeth to points south. None of the rest of us realized Clark's motive or plan at the time. With each mile the "scenery" looked more and more frightening.

We had five or six bikes. I was sweep rider and running every "dark yellow" traffic light necessary, absolutely determined not to be left behind under any circumstances.

Sitting dead stopped at a traffic light on a city surface street in Newark, I noticed a car coming up fast from behind. I flashed my brake lights. The car kept coming. I started to look for an escape route. A solid line of parked cars is on our right. An oncoming traffic lane is on our left. Our bikes are side-by-side with an oblivious Clark in front waiting for the light to change to green. I start waving now. The car keeps coming. I beep my horn to alert my fellow riders. They don't see it. The car is coming still, faster now that he's closer. About the time I am deciding to abandon my bike and dive over the parked cars, the onrushing driver cuts over to the left, flying the wrong way against traffic down that lane, scattering cars from his path. At the last possible moment he cuts in front of Clark to avoid an oncoming dump truck, nearly clipping Clark's front wheel, then cuts back left behind the truck, tires screaming, up a side street. Only then did my panic-driven tunnel vision open up to see the three, yes three, cop cars chasing the guy, lights flashing, sirens wailing. A moment later they were all gone. It was like a brief nightmare. I never did have enough time to scream.

In fact it was over before I had a chance to figure out any safety option to save my life. I didn't even have time to soil my underwear, although after it was all done I seriously considered that as a viable option still, finally rejecting it since we had a long way to ride yet, and in the cold, and I was wearing so many layers.

We made it to Polar Bear sign-in alive. Only then did Clark 'fess up. We offered to escort him in the right hand lane of any New Jersey expressway, four-way flashers flashing, at any speed he wished. Fortunately by then Clark decided the V-rod motor could handle 60 mph and we took the more familiar expressways back to Connecticut. And that was Clark's first ride on the V-rod.

Clark was a long time motorcycle rider. He had a Harley Daytona anniversary model that he sometimes rode for Polar Bears. He was a member of two HOG Chapters, ours in Connecticut and another in New Jersey near his father's home where he often stayed to take care of his elderly dad. Certainly he rode for the companionship. He also liked to do the miles and won our HOG Chapter's high mileage contest. He would ride his bike over from Nutley, NJ to Bridgeport, Conn. for an hour long HOG meeting, then turn around and ride back to his father's house. Clark was one of the first to join me when I discovered the Polar Bear Club. He was first of our crew to go for perfect PB attendance, dropping his V-rod in the snow on a miserable Sunday when the rest of us stayed home.

John K. does not truly ride for points, although he amassed enough for his Polar Bear rocker two rides ago.

Last week as we were driving together 77 miles one way to donate blood in East Orange, NJ – when I can walk from my office to the local blood drive in Stratford, Conn. – John was saying how much he enjoys the Polar Bears. (By the way we drove, instead of rode, because it had snowed earlier that day.)

John K. rides when he has a mission. If he did not have a Polar Bear destination each Sunday, he would probably not ride much in winter. For him it is about having a goal. Points and patches and pins are mere certification of mission accomplishment.

For example, John K. and I have talked about taking a cross-country motorcycle trip. I figure I would need a minimum of three weeks. John wants to ride to California in 50 hours or less, thereby qualifying for another Iron Butt patch.

Riding contests for patches, pins and bragging rights are certainly motivation for many of us. In this year's Lewes, Del., blog entry I rode with John H. to take pictures for an AMA contest. In earlier blog entries I have talked about the HOG ABC's of Touring contest. Each summer I try to get an extended ride just for points.

This week I was wondering why I ride, especially after John H.'s surprise appearance. I wondered why even more as my clutch hand started to go numb waiting to get to the Tappan Zee Bridge. Oh yeah! We forgot! It is the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend.

Our ride down to Hopewell was unremarkable. John H. peeled off in Norwalk for Route 7 north to home to change clothes and catch his plane to the tropics.

Hopefully I won't be disqualified. As I signed the back of my PB sheet I meant to write the date we donated, taking it from from the New Jersey Blood Center form. But I think I wrote down the first part of my blood pressure instead: 11/8. I figured it out later when I saw the "date" on my form was for 1976, not 2007. Mistaking a numeral one for a slash, I ended up with 11/8/76 for a date, when the nurse wrote 118 slash (over) 76.

Rich, if you read this, that may have been a mistake! You're not scaring John. He's now working to find a nurse willing to ride with him to a Polar Bear meet. His friend Sue works in the lab at a local hospital. Heaven only knows what could happen next!

After a tasty lunch by a crackling fire we suited up for home.

Our ride back was pretty uneventful too, until we hit the "top" of Interstate 287, where it departs with I-87 and curves east to the Hudson River and the Tappan Zee Bridge.

What we did NOT figure upon was that the GSP itself was jammed going north to the I-287 Tappan Zee Bridge exit. By jumping off for a quick diversion, we picked up another couple miles of traffic jam.

So we had our coffee and lamented our bad judgment. We also discussed some options like splitting lanes and running the shoulder. In the end we decided to be safe, and fair, and wait our turn in line like everybody else.

Fortunately traffic finally started to move better a mile or two after the GSP-287 merge. Maybe that clog was the reason for the jam in the first place?

I caught this "rare" picture of Polar Bear Grand Pooh Bah Robert Hartpence, but it is still not the picture I wanted.

Last week I took a picture of Bob and he asked me to e-mail it to him. I did not because it came out blurry (my fault, not Bob's). So this week I went over to see Bob and get a better picture to send him.

But he was busy helping sign-in a new member, as shown at left. I grabbed this shot.

B Flight Leader Rich said this is a very rare photo indeed – it actually shows Bob being busy.

Rich also bragged that he has an even rarer picture, "the only one in existence," of Bob . . . washing his motorcycle.

Send me your thoughts: chris@influentialcom.com (You'll have to follow the automated return mail link from my spam blocker to get through.)

Mike Sparandera from Ocean Thunder HOG offered these thoughts:

Hey Chris, Mike from the Ocean Thunder HOG here. My family and I got a kick out of mentioning me and the club in your Old Bridge run blog. I didn't make the Port Jervis run (family obligations) but I should be in Hopewell.

Some of the people I work with know I ride a motorcycle, and I usually get one of them asking me around this time of year if, "I put the bike up on blocks for the winter." So naturally I give them the whole Polar Bear explanation and experience, and, "no we don't jump into the water when we get there," statement. "Why would anyone want to bundle up and ride a motorcycle in 20-40 degree weather?" they ask. Yes, it takes us an additional 15 minutes to get dressed and an additional 5 at the restroom but . . . I guess it's the sense of adventure, man and machine against the elements, being outdoors, freedom, the camaraderie, doing something not many others do, and well it's fun . . . yeah definitely fun.

See ya soon, ride safe