Polar Bear Blog 2006/2007

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 Fairfield County, Conn., participate in the Polar Bear Grand Tour, a winter-long set of destination rides sanctioned by the American Motorcycle Association (AMA): www.PolarBearGrandTour.com.

Join the CT Polar Bear Riders!

Turned out better that way because Saturday was rainy and windy and horrible riding weather. I would have cancelled the Cape May hotel anyway and ridden Sunday.

John Kammerer was duped by default into taking the lead. He therefore set the departure time: 6:00 a.m.

It was in the high 30's, maybe low 40's. Even at speed that's pretty comfortable Polar Bear (PB) weather. Joe had his hippo hands on the bike already. Mine were in the saddle bags just in case. But I never needed them. As we rode south and the sun came up, it warmed us just enough to make for perfect PB weather. Crisp but not punishingly cold.

As John K. rode it, Russ never did get a chance to try out his new 6-speed transmission. Nayh, nayh!

Well with the quick stop, no traffic and making good time, we arrived a full hour early at the Cape May VFW.

Our wait wasn't over, however. Our hearts set on lunch at a good Ocean Avenue sports bar, we jumped on the bikes and rode over and were yet again penalized by John K.'s early bird policy. The bar's kitchen wasn't open until noon, another 20 minute wait. Ah well, sometimes it doesn't pay to be early.

We made pretty good time getting home. Although the speed was faster the pace was more leisurely. Traffic was pretty good most all the way. We stopped for a coffee at the top of the GSP. Then we promptly hurry-up-and-waited to cross the Tappan Zee Bridge. But that's to be expected most every Sunday afternoon in any season.

We still got home just a wee bit after sunset. Thanks to John K.'s 6 a.m. departure and the changing clock, and the just-right weather, we were rewarded with a beautiful sunrise and sunset on this crisp, day-long ride.

And for those of you who are counting, it's a 6 point ride.

If you're interested in the whole points thing, check out the Polar Bear web site or just ask John K. He's figured every possible angle and was even a bit miffed because they wouldn't count his blood points last Sunday. Yes, John has even resorted to selling his blood for PB points. In fact, I intend to join him next time!

Next week's destination is the PB "South Pole," Lewes, Delaware. Mapquest says 272 miles one way. That pushes it over the edge into 7-point territory for us Connecticut riders. For those pursuing the PB patch or rocker, these two rides put you close to halfway for the 30 required minimum points.

John K. once again is setting the ride. He's leaving at 6:00 a.m. sharp from the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, Honeyspot Rd. and Lordship Blvd., I-95, Exit 30.

Russ will ride down Saturday and stay with his brother in the shadow of the Delaware Memorial Bridge. I assume he plans to meet the other riders at the destination.

I'll ride down to Wilmington, Del. on Saturday and stay with my folks. Then I have to cut across Maryland early Sunday morning to pick up a "Q" and "K" county for my ABCs of touring contest. So I'll plan to meet you guys at Fisherman's Wharf by noontime.

That's pronounced "lose" downstate Delaware. It's a great run and our best point ride: 7 big ones!

I can comment only by hearsay on the ride down for the rest of the Polar Bears. Personally I rode down Saturday evening to spend the night with my folks in upstate Delaware.

Not only did I get some quality time with Mom and Dad, but the closer proximity to Lewes offered a chance to swing over into Maryland for an important Harley Owners Group (HOG) ABCs of touring "Q" county. (It's a HOG thing.) Maryland offers Queen Anne's. Quaint name isn't it? But what do you expect from a state where the official sport is jousting?

Maybe leaving late was okay anyway. Crossing Tappan Zee bridge, the superstructure lit up like neon from slanting rays of a late day sun. As I cruised down the Garden State Parkway I was treated to a lovely sunset, reflected off of the smog and jet contrails over the New Jersey Oranges.

A bit later a nearly full moon rose over Marcus Hook, Penn., reflecting a silvery, smudgy path on the Delaware River as I crossed the Commodore Barry Bridge. The orb was lovely, silhouetting sparkly lights of oil refinery rigging, accented here and there by the dancing flames of waste gas burners.

Traffic being light, I was able to slide out of the gas station, across three lanes, and pull up right behind John K, who for the second week in a row set a departure time that had the group arriving about an hour early.

We had breakfast before sign-in opened. John B. wanted lunch, but that menu wasn't available for another 20 minutes. As it turned out, we were served breakfast well after lunch was available. It's a timing thing.

We had great fun on our departure for the ride home, cruising back up Route 1 in Delaware with at least a quarter-mile of bikes behind us. John B. was truly "leader of the pack."

Riding out of Lewes our group was followed by that group, and then perhaps another group. And as I looked through my rearview mirror down the center of the line there were at least a hundred bikes stretching way down the road nearly out of sight.

It was a great feeling for a half-hour, but then we stopped for gas and the rest of the pack went roaring on by.

Unfortunately there was still more gas tank confusion on the ride home. We were all out of synch since I gassed up in Lewes, but these guys were riding tanks filled north of the Delaware Memorial Bridge. When they needed gas, I was only down a half-gallon, about 20 - 25 miles on my Harley.

Now math has never been my specialty. When I was in the fourth grade my family changed school districts. And I went from traditional math to something called "new" math. I have never been the same since. It's probably the reason I became a writer and not a scientist.

I zipped to the front of the line and led the pack off the exit ramp into the service area and up to the gas pumps. At which time they all protested vehemently. And thanks guys, it was so much easier to refigure the math with all those other voices in my head.

Anyway, John B. reminded me that he had 25 miles LESS on his odometer and therefore I should have been subtracting when I was adding. As it was I still had a quarter-tank left when we gassed up at the next open rest stop. Oops! My bad!

"Perfect" leaves no room for compromise. Webster says, "conforming absolutely to the description or definition." Several of the Connecticut Polar Bear (PB) Riders have decided to go for the Perfect Attendance Pin. Not many bears earn one. So few, in fact, they're recognized at the annual North Pole banquet in April.

John Bowlan and John Kammerer have decided to go for "perfect" this year. And I figure to give it a run too, but don't tell Cynthia (my wife).

This despite last year when Johnny B. asked if I wanted to ride down to Jersey in a snowstorm in his truck to keep his attendance record, I flat out told him I thought he was nuts. He ended up not going. (Sorry John.) So maybe now I'm getting a little crazy too.

He was from Connecticut, but often stayed in New Jersey to care for his ailing father. He'd drive me crazy each winter week with logistics and leave times and meeting places. More than once we'd be riding along 287 and suddenly there was Clark in my rear view mirror.

As we met in the Dunkin' parking lot, John K. offered that he'd checked the National Weather Bureau forecast. Johnny B. checked AccuWeather. Ken said he didn't much worry about rain either way. Me, I checked the Clint Eastwood weather forecast, "You gotta ask yourself just one question, 'Do I feel lucky?' Well do 'ya punk?"

Turns out ole Clint was right. We were very lucky.

I can't answer for the other guys, but remarkably for me, the first actual rain drops I saw came just as I got off the bike to unlock the garage door. A minute later it rained pretty hard and steady. No matter. By then I was home, warm and dry.

Weather always looks worse from inside. And fear of rain is probably worse than rain itself.

Lucky is of course better than unlucky. None of us minded being all suited up for a rain that never arrived.

On this ride we were also joined by Chief Morel, that's as in Navy, not Indian. He too has the dolphins insignia on his bike, as well as striking murals of submarines and eagles.

(I should also mention on this ride the day after Veteran's Day that John Bowlan is also a Veteran, U.S. Army. He has an insignia on his bike too, but I don't think it's official government issue.)

Then again, perhaps we have the hostess at Denny's in Old Bridge to thank. Informing us of a 20-minute wait for a table, we opted instead to head north, relegating lunch to the fast food options of the Garden State Parkway.

Last week when I wrote the "Prospective Polar Bears" piece at the top of this blog, I wrote that our sometimes companion from New Hampshire, Randy Teftt, rode a Ducati. John Kammerer called me to say he thought Randy was a Moto Guzzi guy. Trusting John's memory for such details better than my own, I changed the description and fired off an e-mail to Randy asking for clarification. Here's his reply:

If you were on the Fort Dix ride last year, there was a celebration for one of my heroes. Polar Bear Leo Chlebnikow was celebrating his 90^th birthday. I've always joked that someday when I can't hold up my Springer, I'll get a sidecar for it so I can keep riding. If I can match Leo's record, I'll be ordering that sidecar sometime into my second century. Leo is still riding Polar Bear, still on two wheels, and with perfect attendance in the 2005/6 season.

Leo was recently honored with a full-page article in "Americade Times." At 2006 Americade (www.tourexpo.com) he won the award as the event's oldest rider. The article by Laura Brengleman describes Leo's first bike, an Indian Scout that he bought in 1932 for $5 down and $1 a week, no interest. It also explains that after losing his first wife after 43 years of marriage, Leo's second wife Mildred took her first motorcycle ride at age 65 and rides with him still.

The Americade article says Leo currently owns three Hondas: 1972 450CL, 1989 Pacific Coast 800 and 1996 Pacific Coast 800. One of the 800s took a blue ribbon in its class at Americade's 2006 bike show.

On January 23, 2006, between the Sir John's and Fort Dix rides, Leo turns 91. We look forward to celebrating with him again. Meanwhile, I've sent an e-mail to Americade asking for permission to "reprint" their article in this space.

There is a ride on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Departure is 9:00 a.m. at the Dunkin' Donuts on Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd.

Our ride is to Mignella's Restaurant, which MapQuest lists but will not map. Telephone number reverse lookup offers us the "Hillybilly Hall." That sounds close enough in my book!

Based upon the Hillybilly, our ride should be about 135 miles one-way and 2 1/2 hours riding time. If it takes a little longer the worst that can happen is we show up at a Polar Bear restaurant for lunch AFTER the kitchen actually opens.

Fortunately too, we can skirt to the west of New York City, hopefully avoiding much of the holiday weekend traffic. Our route is a straight shot over the Tappan Zee, down 287 to Somerville, NJ and then a brief ride in the hicks.

Tomorrow, when I remember my list of things and people for which I am thankful, I will include my fellow PB riders past and present, Harley-Davidson, and those amazing Polar Bear volunteers who put this ride together every week, handle logistics, post web photos, tally-up our points and convene special board meetings to decide how much blood John K. may give.

Have a happy Thanksgiving. I hope to see you Sunday!

Coming from Connecticut, Port Jervis is one of my favorite PB destinations. It is the only one where New England bears can completely avoid New York City and its traffic.

This Sunday we had eight riders, largest so far this year. In fact, with the flicker of cognizant thought that sometimes serves as a memory, I do not believe we have ever had eight Connecticut Bears. Apparently this mania is contagious. We would have had two more on this ride, but Ray had bike issues and Joe got a work offer he couldn't refuse.

I think Steve enjoyed his ride. But he will probably also be installing a battery connection this week for his next foray. He's invested in the electrics. And boy will he be pleased when they kick in next time he's out. There's nothing like the feeling of spinning up that thermostat and feeling warmth flood your jacket and gloves.

Raul joined us for the first time this year. He went on one ride with us last year. Which demonstrates our PB attitude. You are welcome to come on one ride or every ride. You do not have to sign up with the Polar Bears to join us.

Then across 84 after entering New York you start climbing into the mountains. Mostly your view is of woodlands and fields and occasional overlooks of a town in a valley below.

On our way out of town with me in the lead, a grackle sitting in the highway was undaunted by our pack of onrushing bikes. In fact he did not move. So I swerved. It was one of those moments where you had no idea which way the critter was going to fly. To my mind I guessed right.

Maybe the poor bird was winged by a car that passed this way before us. I am still sure I missed the bird. But my fellow riders dispute this.

Okay, so I did hit a chicken in the road once on the way to Daytona. So maybe a swallow smacked into my shoulder once. And then there was that pheasant that just missed my head and Russ' face, shooting between us with micro seconds to spare.

At lunch Johnny B. had a great story about how a client of his lost one of their cable channels, despite a double backup redundancy that rivals NASA. Apparently his client took all the double backup redundancy and fed it through just one, single switch at their location. When it broke all was for naught. But that's why John is on the job. With 3 hours of frantic routing, he eventually restored the life into a particular channel in time and viewers' estrogen levels returned to normal.

John works at a satellite company grabbing signals from space and distributing them to our local area, and conversely taking local signals and shooting them into space, making them available to the world. He stands watch at his consoles to ensure that you and I miss not a minute of our favorite cable or satellite television shows.

We'll have to save John's prowess with the GPS for a more challenging and complex PB destination. That way none of us (including John) will know if the maniacal satellites sent us 'round the long way.

PB rules give you points for donating to a New Jersey blood bank in the name of the club. Plus you get a point for each 100 miles round trip to the blood bank. To their credit, PB leaders include a strong warning about not being too woozy to ride home. John has already donated once, as mentioned in the October 29th blog entry.

Heck, you don't even have to sign up to be a Polar Bear. We have a couple of riders who are just along for the ride. They don't care a whit about PB points or patches or pins. Can you imagine?

If you are curious about winter riding or have questions, feel free to contact me. I got an e-mail last week from Brian who was trying to decide if he should buy a BMW now and ride it in the winter. I answered his questions as best I could and also forwarded his e-mail to our CT PB list, hoping some of our other winter riders may offer him additional insights. In his reply, Brian said he is buying a bike and planning to join us on one of our future rides. Brian, if you're reading this, I look forward to meeting you in person.

Next week's ride is actually described at the beginning of this blog entry. Departure time is 9:00 a.m. If you would like to be included on our weekly e-mail reminders, just ask: Chris@InfluentialCom.com

Warm Day + Polar Bear Destination = BIG CROWD.

I ended last week's blog with a photo caption refuting several of our members who think the PB turnout has been low this year.  Well we turned out 11 bikes, our biggest ever, from Connecticut. And when we arrived at Hillybilly Hall we had a darned difficult time finding a place to park.

The PB web site says more than 400 bikes attended. And bikes were spilling out of the parking lot, down the side roads and into nearby fields.

I can identify with you Shane. I painted a girl's house one High School summer. And my sisters never brought their boyfriends around when leaves needed raking nor snow shoveling. But I did hang new gutters on my parent's house one year, assisted by my sister Valerie's boyfriend.

Don't worry Shane. Your small investment now pays off big time if Carl ever becomes your father-in-law. Then you can hit him up for help with house down payments, new car payments, babysitting, etc. "But Dad, don't you remember all that I've done for you? Heck we even went Polar Bearing together!"

Pat rode with us two years ago. He was too busy building a new company last year to join us. I guess if the real estate market continues its cooling trend, we might have the pleasure of Pat's company on more PB rides this year. Pat's a good one to have around. His sarcastic humor is fun and quick. Like when the waitress brought his hamburger this week, Pat retorted, "I didn't order the meatloaf!"

Riding this week, I (Chris) led the pack with Johns B & K sweeping. It's a bit of a challenge with 11 bikes. We can't just weave in and out of traffic. It's like trying to change lanes with a freight train. It is a long look to find your sweep bike at the back of the line. The two Johns did an excellent job of clearing lanes and beating back tailgaters.

On the way down the penultimate roadway seemed too long in coming. So I pulled off in a safe place to make sure I had not missed a turn. Before I could whip out my map, our two GPS-enabled riders rushed to my aid, assuring me we had to travel just a bit farther.

What brilliant highway engineer came up with the idea of dumping Route 7 onto Route 84 for a mile or so, and then routing it on northward? That is a guaranteed traffic jam every time as two lanes merge onto 84 from the right, squeeze down to three lanes and then two lanes merge off into a "left exit only." And all the accommodation offered is a caution sign that says, "Weaving Traffic."

My XO came roaring up from his sweep position and announced a new route. It's kinda hard to have an orderly discussion with cars swirling around you. The next thing I knew . . . mutiny!

John K. pointed his bike 90 degrees to starboard and the entire crew ran for the exit. I meekly followed. Now in unfamiliar waters, I surrendered the lead to John.

Dodgingtown was interesting. Never heard of it before. Hattertown was another revelation. If you really want to see the unseen parts of any state, follow John K. and his amazing GPS!

As it turned out, John actually had a plan and knew where he was going. However not everyone riding with us had the blind faith to follow him. When John passed up the familiar Route 58 as an option to strike for home, all our guys stuck with him. At least I think they did if they managed to catch up after a gauntlet of traffic lights on Main Street Danbury.

As it turned out, Hattertown Road was a lovely diagonal, eventually coming out at Route 25 in Upper Stepney. Right there we found a Dunkin' Donuts and a chance to regain our composure. Russ and Carl had had enough fun and Shane followed with them as they headed home to dinner.

Now down to the two Johns and me, we enjoyed a beverage and reflected on our mini adventure. No one else saw the "Christmas Cow" along Hattertown Road. I thought it was pretty amazing. Dusk wasn't quite done, so there was enough dark to appreciate the cow's lights and enough light to see her adornments. John B. favored me with a raised eyebrow. Surely he saw it from the sweep position? "No," he replied, "A Christmas C-O-W? What are you talking about?"

Imagine my vindicated delight when the Hattertown Road Cow, along with a pig and other oddities, made the front page of the Connecticut Post Monday morning.

This week's destination is Montgomeryville Cycle Center in Hatfield, PA. Mapquest says 3 hours, 10 minutes; 163 miles. It is a pretty nice ride, a lot like the route from last Sunday.

With the longer distance, we will set 8:05 a.m. as the departure time from the Dunkin' on Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd., I-95, Exit 30, in Stratford.

This week I think I will stick to the middle of the pack, even if it is only the two Johns and me.

Oh, and in all fairness to John K. (who was made to look the "bad guy" in this blog) just remember who is writing this and wanted to shift blame for a traffic jam so he could appear as the "victim." All the same, I agree with Russ who wrote this response e-mail: "John always gets us to our destination but must we go through California every week? Maybe its an old Sub route he knows? I hate to admit it but I would probably follow him up a tree." Thanks John for being a good sport!

All comments, suggestions and criticism about this blog are welcome. If you would like to add or change something, or if you want to be included on our weekly e-mail reminders, just ask: Chris@InfluentialCom.com