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.
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.
Week 5 Connecticut
Bears, from left: Johnny B. (Grumpy), Bart, John H. (Token) (this
entry's correspondent),
John K. (Captain), Ralphie, Matt, Nick, John J., Russ and Bernie.
Once again your blogger was NOT present for the Polar Bear
ride. (May have trouble getting that gold rocker again this
year!) This last Sunday my "excuse" was a wonderful weekend-plus
getaway with the wife to Gettysburg.
It was the 146th
anniversary of the Gettysburg Address, delivered November 19,
1863. The occasion is commemorated with Civil War reenactors and
a luminary display in the cemetery. You can see more photos on
my Facebook page, but I thought it was okay for me to share just
a few here.
I visited the battlefield as a teenager. It was wonderful to
see it once again, now from an adult perspective. I was reading
Longstreet's memoirs then walking the very same ground. Here and
there on the battlefield reenactors drilled, their drums and
bands echoing among forlorn hills now traipsed by tourists.
The whole event was something like a bike rally. People were
walking around everywhere in funny clothes, united by a common
interest. Just like wearing chaps at a bike rally, where else
can you wear hoop skirts and braided epaulets on the street all
day?
I commented in shock to my wife at the cost of an authentic
civil war uniform coat, some three hundred bucks for something
you can wear only for special occasions! Cynthia just laughed,
"I know someone who has spent far more on specialized clothing
with limited uses."
Luminaries are
placed on each Civil War grave, 3,000 in all.
Lincoln's famous address was made to dedicate this cemetery in
November
of the same year as the horrific July 1, 2 and 3, 1863 battle.
Confederate
color guard turns the corner in Gettysburg.
The town was full of reenactors. Some paraded through
town as others lined the sidewalks.
Below, not every participant was so enthusiastic.
This little Union boy took a moment to relax as
the parade paused.
50 degrees and sunny
Of course I know you are more interested in the adventures of
Connecticut Polar Bears who actually go on the rides! Fortunately my
fellow riders still provide correspondent reports, even when it takes me
more than a week to post them. Here John Howard provides a fun account
with plenty of inside jokes. We call John "Token," not because he is an
American with a British accent, but because he rides a Honda ST amongst
our Harley crowd. Such is even fodder for this week's entry.
Here is John Howard's report . . .
Report by John Howard, Headlines:
Kammerer kisses Curtis
Howard and Cole Harley/Honda tiff settled in Hillybilly parking
lot
Nick spends 13th birthday with Grandpa and CTPBs; charges of
cruel and unusual punishment are pending
CT Blogger flagged over English language comments
The sun greeted the Connecticut Bears for the ride to Hopewell,
though the temperature started on the cool side (about 40 degrees F), it
quickly rose to above 50 degrees, peaking at 56.
John "Token" Howard, this week's
correspondent.
Johns B., K., and J., Nick, Russ, Bernie, Ralph and Bart
assembled at the Stratford Dunkin' Donuts as usual and made good speed
to pick up John H. at the Tappan Zee Bridge bang on time at 9:45 a.m.
Johnny B. with Nick in pillion was the lead with John J. bringing up the
rear as sweep after a bruising series of reports (mostly unjustified) on
his lead ride on week four.
The ride south on the Interstate system was uneventful with numerous
state troopers spotted along the way. The fun started after the turn on
to Route 206 south when the CT bears found themselves being squeezed by
a long train of NJ Bears as the road narrowed from two lanes down to one
lane.
Bernie, Matt and John K. upon arrival in
Hopewell.
Mixed into the front of the NJ Bear phalanx things were a
little sticky until the CT Bears assembled single file on the left track
and the NJ Bears moved off to the right side to stop to reform. Sorted
out, the CT Bears continued south and after a stop light found
themselves behind another large group of NJ Bears and with the other NJ
group behind at one point there must have been 60 bikes in formation
heading south, quite a sight.
At an intersection the assemblage came
to a rather sudden stop that caught the Captain out just a little which
resulted in his bike kissing the back of a bag on Russ' new ride. (I
never meant to imply their lips ever touched, that would be disgusting
and way too horrible to contemplate.) The Captain wobbled some but
thankfully stayed upright. The final 10 miles were a slow paced stop and
go intersection riddle tour of the NJ countryside, but otherwise
uneventful.
Russ and John J. waiting for Hillybilly
lunch.
Hillybilly Hall was packed to the gills on our punctual
arrival at 11:30 a.m. Seeing John B. lead the group to the way yonder
boonies, John H. and John J. thought better of it and found a couple of
spots up at the front lot, wandering down the stoned back to find the
group. The choice of parking spot by Johnny B. drew some well chosen
words from a certain ex-submariner, though the choice for the leader was
rather limited.
Bart, who had been YELLING his opinion via e-mail on
the attributes of the trusted STeed (get it?) of John H., greeted him
with a Polar Bear hug in reconciliation. Riding sporty V-twins is a
desire of the author which was again unrequited due to the dismal
reliability of the Buell Uly. Oh well, perhaps next week that fine piece
of engineering will be road worthy.
At lunch, left to right, Bernie, Bart,
Russ and Ralphie.
Editor's Note: For those who did not see the e-mail traffic, here is
what Bart said about John H. comments about John's Buell Ulysses.
As an owner of many Japanese motorcycles and cars in my life, all I
can say is . . . BORING!!! As one Harley owning friend of mine once said
after riding my 1986 Honda Magna V65 or whatever the (heck) it was,
"It's like kissing your grandmother." I couldn't have described it
better myself.
My Harleys have given me no problemos at all. The torque and the
attitude are second to none. I've yet to find one piece of plastic on
mine as well.
Be fair to HD Mr. Howard, they own Buell but do not manufacture them!
Weekly Bob Hartpence picture by Nick this
week.
Editor's Note: Bart was responding to THIS post from John H.
Another thing
that will be absent for possibly 5 to 10 years is my Uly, it is not the
intake seals, ECM, O2 sensor, temperature sensor or induction system
that is causing my EFI running problem so it remains in the shop…Conn.
Statute Chapter 743b, section 42-179 is an emerging possibility as
lemons should be confined to use in gin and tonics. All future
motorcycle purchases will be from the islands of Japan, sorry fellas no
Harley will ever grace my garage though I do believe HD/Buell Danbury
are doing their best.
Editor's Note: Back to John H.
report of Hopewell ride.
Sign-in was relatively smooth given
the crowds and John B. corralled a table for 10, adopted CT Bear Matt
included, to participate in lunch.
Photo by Nick, description by Chris:
Often we post a weekly Polar Bear mascot picture. If you are a non-rider
reading the blog, it often happens that various sorts of stuffed animals
are held onto enthusiasts' motorcycles with bungie cords. (I had a
penguin on his bike last year to celebrate his workplace's exhibit.) I
am not quite sure WHAT is holding on the bear pictured this week??? But
it seems a bit salacious.
Bernie left his ordered scribbled on a napkin and departed
for the line for the loo (a.k.a. men's room, just trying to broaden the
group's vocabulary). Meanwhile John K. just upped and left for the same
destination while Russ made other arrangements to relieve himself.
On
Russ' return, the order for food was placed except for you know who, no
order available and still in line as the server lamented that she could
not put the food order in until all the table had identified what they
wanted.
Captain K. returned to the table and was roundly heckled for his lack
of group awareness and to make matters worse he ordered a chicken Caesar
salad. Jeez, there was a time when CT Bears were real men!!
At lunch, adopted CT Bear Matt, left, and
Grumpy, right.
By this time Ralph was wondering if riding with the CT
Bears was the wisest choice he could be making for his future, but after
being regaled with tales of the mishaps his fellow but absent MSF
Instructor has had over the years, he is going to give it more time.
Johnny B. made the group aware that Nick was celebrating his 13th
birthday which was cheered by the group however a rendition of "Happy
Birthday to You" was not forthcoming. What a shame for the new teenager.
It occurred to me that having such a fresh face in this group of gnarly
old geezers was a brutal way to introduce Nick into his teenage years,
when a growing awareness of one's influence on the world and sensitivity
to the needs of others should flourish. CT Bears as lunch companions and
role models would qualify as cruel and unusual punishment for a birthday
boy. Always great to have you along Nick and enjoy your teenage years!
The conversation meandered to the subject of the CT Blog and the CT
Blogger who offered a critique of the submissions from the Week 4 Bears.
It is believed that three or more submissions were made and such a
difficult task was it to untangle the muddled English that the final
report remains a work in progress. CT Blogger was flagged for
inappropriate use of certain punctuation marks in his e-mail of November
19th by the wife of a Week 5 Bear who apparently graduated with a degree
majoring in the English language.
New and perhaps future CT Bear, Ralph.
The matter remains open and is unlikely to be settled
until CT Blogger can rejoin the group. It is hoped that a resolution can
be found without punches being thrown, however, the number of ride
reports for Week 5 presented for consideration is expected to decline
from the peak observed in Week 4.
Hillybilly Hall was in the rear view
mirror by about 1:15 p.m., the northbound trip commenced with a pleasant
tour of the back roads of central New Jersey leading to Interstate 287,
78 and the Garden State Parkway with a customary stop at the Montvale
Services.
Bart was the payer on this occasion but refused to serve the group as
a consequence of the roasting John H. received a couple of weeks before.
He need not have been worried as the beverages were delivered without
fault and in perfect order; this led to the conclusion that it was the
ordering technique of the newest, but as yet defective, American that
had created prior problems. Let it be known that the defective American
has sworn off making any future group beverage purchases.
The group did the usual thing at the Tappan Zee Bridge on the way
east and so ended this chapter in the CT Bear season of 2009.
(If I don't get at least a B+ for this I am going to go see the
Principal.)
Captain John K.
Report from Grumpy:
Here are this week's photos. Group shot by J.B. most of the others by
Nick B.
(Editor's note: A few portraits were also sent by Bart.)
Report for Sunday's ride: We showed up, we went there for lunch, on
the way home we stopped for coffee. It was a nice day to ride.
Mapquest says the ride is 2 hours, 45 minutes, and 146 miles one way.
Therefore let's figure on a departure time of 9:00 a.m. from the
Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, CT.
That Dunkin' is the one just off Interstate 95, Exit 30, at the
corner of Lordship Boulevard and Honeyspot Road.
All are welcome to join us. However I believe the Polar Bear Grand
Tour has reached its limit of 550 registered participants. You can still
ride, but will have to wait until next year to earn the coveted Polar
Bear patch.
Week 6 Connecticut
Polar Bears. From left standing: Ralphie (Fonz), Johnny B. (Grumpy),
Russ (Russ), John K. (Captain),
Bernie, Pogy (Really!), John H. (Token) and Bart. On his haunches in the
front, your's truly, Chris (CT Blogger).
36 degrees F to start but
warmed up nicely to mid 50s by return, under a bright, cloudless sky
Can you believe this weather we are having? Last year, Grumpy and the
Captain drove to this destination in a car through severely predicted
snow in order to preserve their perfect attendance. This year we rode
over with nine bikes in balmy sunshine.
Perhaps the only downside to these warm Sundays is that it brings out
the Polar Cubs. Fair weather winter riders looking for a place to go on
such a beautiful day turned out in huge numbers. The Grand Tour Website
estimated 400 bikes. We arrived just a bit after 11:30 and ended up last
in a line of bikes stretching all the way around to the other side of
the gas station. Usually arriving at such an early hour earns us a space
right in front of the dealership.
Last row of bikes on pavement at Schoch's
H-D.
Look at that sky, will ya?
Rose Schoch and all her staff and all her family did all
they could to manage the onslaught. But the chili and split pea soup
could not come fast enough to feed the minions. No sooner did a new
batch arrive than it was gone. It took me two queues to get a cup of her
delicious soup. A big thanks to the staff of
Schoch Harley-Davidson.
It's not that I do not enjoy a warm winter ride like every other
motorcyclist. It is just that the record number of Polar Cubs is
outstripping the resources of our destinations. If it remains this warm
for the Hooter's run we may never see our curly fries and buffalo
chicken sandwiches.
I am worried about losing Ralphie. After regaling him with stories of
winter riding in the Polar Bear Club, all he's seen are these huge
crowds and temperatures any rube could weather.
Was it two winters ago when we had that unusually warm winter?
Polar Bear Grand Tour photographer
Walter Kern
shot this video of us following the chili pot.
I remember writing in the blog, in February, that I wasn't
afraid of February winter. My reasoning was that with only a maximum of
six weeks left until spring, how much could Mother Nature throw at us?
Turned out she showed just how much a mother she could be that February
and March. We wuz clobbered with freezing cold, freezing rain, freezing
winds, froze our butts off.
So I will not again tempt the fates, wishing for cold weather to thin
out the Polar Bear herd. If we lose Ralphie, well we lose Ralphie. And
we can always find another place to stop for lunch.
This ride we picked up a new bear because of the weather, but not like
you think. Pogy Pogany came along Sunday not because it was warm but
because Saturday was windy. In addition to his full time job wrangling
helicopters around the world, he spends a lot of his “leisure” time
tonging oysters. That's a pretty tough hobby. Saturday the winds whipped
up the oyster beds and so Pogy needed another diversion for Sunday.
When he called to ask about departure details, he asked if the other
riders, most all on Harley-Davidson motorcycles, would give him a hard
time about riding a Gold Wing. I told him that of course they would.
But I also assured him we allowed other Honda riders in our midst, even
designating one of our regulars “Token.” Point of fact, we had three
Hondas, out of nine bikes total, on Sunday.
Ralphie "Fonz" Fonseca, still waiting for
cold.
His Fat Boy is on the left, the wing is Pogy's.
Token was there on his ST. Pogy was on his Wing. And then
Bernie shows up on a yellow monster named after a mythical Norse
goddess. (I just love the smell of napalm in the morning!)
Turns out he
wore the tread off his Harley's tires and had to settle for the next
bike in his garage.
Bernie, by the way, was wearing his Harley high
visibility suit. Dayglow orange mounted on a bright yellow bike bouncing
around in my rear view mirror, Bernie looked like a bad acid trip going
down the road.
Token was delighted. “We're taking over!” he exclaimed.
Hooold on thar Baba Louie! The Japanese contingent still has a ways to
go to achieve Connecticut Polar Bear domination.
And Bernie will
probably be back on his Harley soon. Although who knows what other
brands may lurk in his garage?
Bright Bernie.
Baba Louie
(By the way, Token e-mailed me that he did not get the "Baba Louie"
reference. Guess he grew up watching different cartoons in England!)
For nostalgia's sake I took the lead. Schoch's
Harley-Davidson was
my first ever Polar Bear ride in 2002.
Earlier in May of that year I passed Pogy's Basic Rider's
Course, he actually was one of my instructors, and purchased the
big Springer after the first range day. It was my first time
ever on a motorcycle and I took Pogy's advice, “There is no
substitute for miles.”
So when summer waned I looked around for a
reason to keep riding and to my great good fortune found the
Polar Bear Club in an article in my AMA magazine.
Quick Draw McGraw
Here I am riding to Schoch's seven years later with my
former motorcycle riding instructor, now an instructor myself. Ralphie,
also an instructor, was with us as well. Russ called for a group photo
of the three Connecticut Rider Education Program (ConnRep) Rider
Coaches, although I will not repeat the words Russ used in describing
our contingent.
This was also the destination of
Clark Makinson's last ride. He died of
liver cancer a few weeks later. I thought about Clark as we rode over
Sunday. He was an interesting character. I think I would have liked to
have gotten to know him even better. We rode Polar Bears together and a
very wet Rolling Thunder and a memorable Roar to the Shore. Is there
ever enough time?
As we mounted our bikes at the Dunkin' in Stratford, I called Pogy in
Norwalk to tell him we were, “feet up in five minutes.” Then I started
on my layers. Since I was taking the lead, and it was at least a bit
cold, I even tied on my white silk scarf.
Connecticut Rider Education Program
(ConnREP)
Rider Coaches now also Polar Bears, well one
Bear three Cubs, from left: Chris, Ralphie and Pogy.
That always takes a bit of time. If you don't
get it right it will come unknotted as you ride, quickly becoming 10
feet of wildly whipping worry. Finally, I went to plug in my electric
gloves. But the last time I used them . . . it was without electricity.
Clark on his V-Rod in
summer.
You can read about his last ride here:
Clark's Last Ride.
We miss you man! He was quite the character,
fit right in with our crew.
CT Polar Bears at Schoch's on Clark
Makinson's last ride.
From left: Grumpy, Captain, CT Blogger and Clark.
The new Gerbing gloves have a great feature. If you wish
to use them without electricity, there is a small, zippered pouch inside
the glove in which one can store the electric cord. I had done so. Which
meant, of course, that now I had to unzip the pouch to retrieve the
wires. Meanwhile my fellow Bears are ready to go with engines running.
“Off to a great start for ragging fodder,” I said to myself, inside my
helmet where no one else could hear.
With Pogy joining us from the Darien rest stop and John H. and Bart at
the Tappan Zee Bridge, I had to execute some running pickup maneuvers.
If you want to join our ride from anyplace other than the Dunkin' in
Stratford, we treat you like the mailbags on the Old West train lines.
Remember how they put the bag on a hook at the station and the train
snapped up the bag without even slowing?
De-layering upon arrival, from left,
Chris, Pogy and Russ.
Well, I slowed a bit, and held the right hand lane, until
we snapped up the extra riders. As we came upon Pogy he was seated,
engine running, and slipped into formation without missing a beat. At
the Tappan Zee I had to hold the slow lane a little longer. As we
approached I see Bart working on his helmet strap. I'm with you Bart, a
brother procrastinator. (Oooh, I bet that hurt! Nobody wants to be
compared to me when it comes to speed of preparation for riding.)
All in all we had an uneventful ride down. John Howard took up the sweep
position. You can read his report at the end of mine. From my point of
view he did a marvelous job. Lanes were cleared with alacrity. We exited
and merged the expressways with precision. (Such was not entirely the
case on the ride home, but such was not the sweep's fault.)
Brother Bart at Snydersville.
Arriving at Schoch's Harley-Davidson, the parking lot was packed
already. Not wanting to put my guys on gravel, I rode all the way around
the back and we ended up taking the last possible pavement spaces on the
far side of the gas station.
Official Polar Bear Photographer Walter
Kern caught a funny video of our group following the chili pot into the
dealership (see above). He also caught a video of us arriving, but,
sigh, did not bring his camera up fast enough to immortalize yours
truly, leader of the pack.
We signed in and scrambled like everyone else for a bit of food.
We heard from our first blog fan of the year. John K. was standing in
line for the bathroom when a rider came up to him declaring, “You're the
Captain!”
CT Bears arriving, thanks to Walter
Kern.
John was a smidgeon surprised but chatted a bit. Then our
reader found his way upstairs where I was sitting with our crew and
introduced himself.
Thank you. In past years I mostly heard from my
readers when the blog was late. With the new
BlogSpot version, you can even post comments online if you wish.
Meanwhile, feel free to say hello at the Polar Bear meets!
We gassed up and reassembled for the weekly group photo. I led the group
back to New England and was doing pretty well until the Garden State
Parkway presented herself.
It is funny how traditions start. Oftentimes there is no real good
reason for them. But as habits become ingrained they harden into
traditions.
At first I could find only a couple
pieces of buttered bread.
Eventually I got a cup of split pea soup.
Have you heard the story about the one-legged
turkey? As mom prepares her Thanksgiving turkey, she cuts off the right
leg before placing it in the roaster pan. Her daughter asks, “Mommy why
do you cut off the leg?” Mom answers, “Because that's the way my mother
taught me.” So at dinner, the daughter asks her grandmother, “Why do you
cut off one leg of the turkey before you roast it?” Of course
Grandmother answers, “Because that's the way my mother taught me.”
Fortunately, her mother, the daughter's great grandmother, is there for
dinner. Again the same question by the young daughter. Great Grandmother
answers, “Because my roasting pan was too small.”
So we most always end our Polar Bear runs with a coffee
stop at the last rest stop on the Garden State Parkway at Montvale; I
call it “Chez GSP.” We make this stop even when we have to ride out of
our way to make it.
Last Sunday we could have just booked across Interstate 287, the way we
came, straight to the Tappan Zee. But the group consensus was to stay
Interstate 80 all the way east to the Garden State Parkway and then
proceed north to our coffee stop. That fateful decision spoiled my
otherwise picture perfect motorcycle group leader performance.
This Garden State Parkway entrance off of Interstate 80 eastbound gets
me every time. I never seem to do it often enough to remember the exit's
eccentricities until it is way too late. Sunday was no exception.
Bob Hartpence photo of the week (another
CT Polar Bear tradition, this one started by Johnny B.)
As you follow 80 signs appear for the Garden State
Parkway. As you get close, gently moving your line of nine motorcycles
into the right hand lane in preparation, you see a small sign for the
Parkway S-O-U-T-H. Okay. I want to go north.
Faking toward the south exit I readjusted quickly, hauling my snaking
line of bikes through that never-never land between the road's shoulder
and lanes. Just over the bridge, this MUST be it! I hold position only
to see no exit at all. Still we are traveling the nonexistent lane. I
can almost hear the guffaws behind me over the tractor trailers whirling
around us.
Signaling to my wing man, Russ Curtis, best in the business, I throw
both hands up in frustration and confusion. Russ hesitates not a minute
and rockets his big Road King into the lead. I fall in behind because
Russ exudes confidence in his direction.
As another mile or so clicks
by, the only signs I see are for the George Washington Bridge, Oh my
gawd! If I lead my guys into the GW, Sunday after Thanksgiving, I will
never hear the end of it.
Just as I reach the height of anxiety, a big sign appears for Garden
State Parkway north.
Russ Curtis, best motorcycle wing man
there is.
Geeze New Jersey! Would it have killed you to put a sign
waaay back there at the southbound exit. Something to the effect of
“Northbound GSP 5 miles”?
Still behind Russ we merged through a sieve
of toll gates. Russ was charging hard for coffee and I had to pull up to
him and reassert the lead. In my rear view mirror I saw only three
bikes. So I slowed our column down a bit and eventually the others wove
their way through traffic and formed on me.
To assuage my embarrassment, I bought the round of coffees and hot
chocolates at the traditional rest stop. (Order went fine, by the way,
John H. Must be the accent. Maybe you should work on that?)
Fonz at Chez GSP.
Week 6 leader: Chris,
"CT Blogger."
Week 6 sweep: John H., "Token."
Report by John Howard: A View from the Rear
As Chris remarked at the Chez Montvale Services, the traditional CTPB
stop when returning north, “you get to see everything when riding
sweep.” His erudite comment prompted me to share a few notes on the ride
to Snydersville, PA, as seen from the rear.
It would be wrong to assume that after last weeks’ blog report I was
relegated to the rear as punishment to eat Harley exhaust and enjoy the
resonance from the ‘loud pipes save lives’ brigade (yes, the CTPB’s have
their share); I volunteered. The group did a great job holding position
throughout the day in holiday traffic; clean lane changes and a nice
tunnel down the echelon when formed up, at least for the most part. But
that would be a dull report wouldn’t it?
CT Bears comparing ride notes upon
arrival.
In the foreground, with their backs to the camera,
are this week's Sweep Token (left) and Lead CT Blogger.
So let me tell you about Bernie; he hates, detests and
otherwise loathes flat spots on his tires so once in a while when a lane
on either side of the formation opens he will perform a ‘crazy Ivan’
(remember ‘The Hunt for Red October’?). Moving to the clear lane he
starts a ballet of weaves that is a sight to behold, elegant, sweeping,
always controlled within lane, perhaps for a few hundred yards sometimes
for longer until satisfied that ridges have been scrubbed and it is time
to return to the dull routine of normal group riding. Future sweeps take
note.
Oh, and then there was the ‘never a GPS, just notes on my mirror’ leader
of the ride who for the first 200+ miles had been faultless.
Unfortunately, mirrors can only hold so much information, so what to do
when the writing surface on the mirror runs out (acknowledging that
getting bigger mirrors en route is not feasible)? Well, follow the signs
of course! For 47 of the 48 contiguous states that can work but as the
world knows directional signs in NJ are provided to deceive. Foxed not
once but twice the non-GPS leader relinquished to the GPS enabled
wingman to navigate to the Garden State North; the transition was plain
ugly (no other description would be truthful).
The ugliness continued
on the GSP north as the wingman, come leader, did not spare the horses
out of the entrance toll to the GSP leaving a ragged group of tail
enders blighted by cagers and gasping for speed to catch up.
After properly wearing his tires,
Bernie arrives safely at Schoch's Harley-Davidson.
The new leader was returned to the wingman role at the
behest of the original leader allowing the stragglers to reform but only
after a mile or more had passed. I am still trying to catch my breath
after running so hard.
The final moment of the day was delivered by a young lady multitasking
on her cell phone in her silver Subaru WRX. Pressing on the rear she
would not be held up by a bunch of bikers so reverted to racing up the
inside line (while no doubt texting her BFF about her annoyance at the
bikers) before drawing up behind another vehicle and then started to
drift into the formation. Fortunately collecting her thoughts on
DRIVING, heaven forbid, she actually recognized the need for lane
discipline. Yikes! The young ones are the worst aren’t they……?
Suiting up at Dunkin' before the ride
are, from left,
Johnny B., Russ and Chris.
One more note from Ralphie:
Prior to introducing yourself to the Captain, make sure he is
finished with his business in the men's room. The Captain gets a little
nervous when a strange/unknown male approaches him, then puts their arm
around his shoulder and looks down at him, while they are introducing
themselves as a "FAN".
So, next time, PLEASE wait until the Captain releases his grip.
Ralphie
Polar Cub, A.K.A-Fonz
Fonz' Fat Boy and Grumpy's Road Glide at
Dunkin'
in Stratford before starting out for Snydersville.
Also heard from
Rose Schoch:
Dear Chris I had
help from Sharon to find ur blog on the Polar Bear 2002. It is still
on their site & we enjoyed it very much. Come in for split peas
soup, but let me know when so I make it fresh.
Rose (the Harley
Dealer)
;-)
Thank you Rose! After my first Polar
Bear ride, I actually led a Bridgeport (CT) HOG ride to tour your
museum that summer. See you next year!
Chris (the Blog Author)
Schoch Harley-Davidson owner Rose Schoch,
our host,
Sunday, with one of her employees on the pillion.
Russ, left, and Johnny
B., right, both earned their Red Rockers this Sunday.
Connecticut Bear coffee
break at Chez GSP, Montvale rest stop at the top of the Garden State
Parkway in New Jersey.
Meanwhile, this Sunday’s
ride (December 6) is a long one. It is 180 miles to Montgomeryville
Cycle Center, one way. MapQuest says 3 hours and 20 minutes. An
eight o’clock a.m. departure should, mathematically, put us there at
11:30 a.m. Here’s hoping that any predicted nasty weather for
Saturday, stays in Saturday. As of Saturday at 5:00 p.m. when I
finally finished this version of the blog the call is for half to a
couple inches of snow, all finishing before midnight. Sunday should
warm up to the fifties. Sorry Ralphie!
Montgomeryville has a
reputation for great free food and terrible weather. I am thinking
maybe this Sunday we can catch a break. And if the weather stays
good we want to get there early because they always run out of the
great food. They probably don’t stock up anymore because they keep
getting stuck with leftovers when their Sunday is snowed-out! A few
years back, most of us got gorgeous roast beef sandwiches. The
laggards got hastily boiled hot dogs (remember Bernie?). It is
always interesting to be a Polar Bear Rider.
We meet at the
Dunkin’ Donuts in Stratford, just off I-95, Exit 30, corner of
Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd.
Those who wish to
join en route should contact me or Captain Kammerer to make
appropriate arrangements. Our route will take us much the same way
as last Sunday, except once over the Tappan Zee we continue south on
Interstate 287 to Interstate 78 west.
Hope to see you
Sunday.
Meanwhile, ride safe,
and warm,
Chris
Oh, and finally, if you
scroll back a few rides, I posted the photo of the Wigwam at The
Maritime Aquarium that kept me from the ride to Port Jervis. We
still have "Where the Wild Things Are" next weekend in our IMAX
theater. Then it is Disney's "A Christmas Carol" starring Jim
Carrey. Photo is here:
Port Jervis, NY.
Week 7 Bears, from
left: Fonz, Ron, Grumpy, Captain, Blogger, John J., Token, Bart, Dave.
Hey, if you can't keep track of the nicknames, you haven't been reading
my blog!
NOTE: Sorry for
the late posting blog fans. It's Christmas time and I have had parties,
events and obligations, including a visit from the folks. Captain and
Grumpy rode in the rain to The Cabin, their report will follow this one
soon. Yours truly, Chris Loynd "CT Blogger."
30 degrees to start
“warming” to 40 under, a bright sky
Cold came to Connecticut.
Winter rewarded us with a beautiful Polar Bear ride. Looks like we might
keep Ralphie after all.
Long Island Sound, by its sheer volume of relatively warm waters, kept
any snow from accumulating near my home in Stratford, Conn. Big, wet
flakes fell. But they didn't last. Only a few managed to coat cold
surfaces like parked cars.
It was not until we headed north that we saw snow on the ground. As we
crossed over the Tappan Zee Bridge the far heights were painted in snow.
It got more beautiful as we entered the mountains of New Jersey on
Interstate 78 west. This was a wet snow and so it clung to every
surface. Every tree's branch and twig was highlighted. Seeing it from
the back of a motorcycle was a very fine experience, very fine.
John H. "Token," with coffee, and Ralphie
"Fonz"
at Chez GSP. Looks like maybe it's cold enough
to keep Fonz interested.
We left the Dunkin' in Stratford with six bikes. A new
rider, Dave, met us there. Fonz invited him. Dave was on a brand new
Harley dresser, just 600-some miles on the odometer.
We picked up another Fonz friend at the Darien rest stop as we headed
south. Ron was also on board a Harley.
We picked up two more, Token and Bart, at the Tappan Zee Bridge. Grumpy
was lead. Chris, your blogger, was sweep.
Is there something especially self indulgent about SUV owners? Somehow I
suspect so. In addition to taking up more than their fair share of space
and natural resources, they also seem the most egregious when it comes
to not clearing snow off their roofs. They blithely fly down the highway
with mini blizzards in their wake, or slabs of ice and snow flying off
their machines, or they dump mini drifts at stoplights. All these are
special hazards for us winter motorcycle riders.
Yeah, it was cold. Bart and John J.
dismounted
at our destination.
There was some discussion in our group as to police
discouragement of such boorish behavior, but I suspect the cops pursue
snow top infractions with the same vigor as driving while cellphoning.
Just wait boys. When the big snows come the real danger is from
tractor-trailer trucks. These morons throw off sheet-of-plywood sized
slabs of ice from their roofs and drop rock-hard slushbergs from their
mudflaps as they go their merry way. Last year someone in a car was
killed in Connecticut by such malfeasance.
Nine bikes in total, we ran
steady and true and continually to our destination. Only when
encountering a few stoplights on 309 did we put our feet down. Despite a
few ugly bouts with entropy, we reformed in the end, reaching Polar Bear
sign-in with bone dry tanks and bulging bladders.
In retrospect Grumpy and I both thought an interim stop
may have been advisable.
For one thing, it was cold in the morning. I was almost comfortably cold
on the ride over. Fooled by the forecast, I took a chance on my “geeze
it's cold” level of protection.
By way of explanation, I am prepared for four levels of Polar Bear
riding. Level one is “too warm.” Level two is “nice.” Level three is
“geeze it's cold,” Level four is “damn it's really cold.” There is a
level five, “holy crap cold.” Nobody can put on enough layers or run a
big enough alternator for that level cold.
I have ridden in level 5 by the way. The only defense is to stop every
so many miles and thaw out your frozen parts.
CT Blogger at Dunkin' Donuts departure
Sunday.
The various levels are difficult for me because of my bike
setup. I do not have big fiberglass tubs bolted all over my bike like
the guys on dressers. My leather saddlebags hold only so much. And
clothing is bulky.
My strategy is to make my best guess and then tough it out because I
invariably guess wrong. Plus any given Polar Bear ride can vary by one,
sometimes even two, levels of cold during the ride itself.
“Geeze it's cold” meant I had not yet strapped hippo hands over the
handlebar grips. I figured it might be iffy, but wanted to give my new
Gerbing gloves a good testing. They just about kept up with the cold and
wind. I had them cranked so high for so long they gave me a little burn
blister on the back of my left hand.
New rider Dave . . . before . . .
Inside my hippo hands (level four), I can actually wear
only the heated glove liners. That's Grumpy's tactic. He usually deploys
his hippo hands early. Polar bear riding is all about the wind.
“Geeze it's cold” also meant I trusted my Gerbing jacket. It too, does
not hold up to the full onslaught of a “damn it's cold” ride. That level
of cold requires me to wear my heated jacket liner underneath my Gerbing
jacket. As an interim measure, I tried wearing my rain jacket over my
Gerbing jacket to block more wind. Even so I was on the edge of
discomfort.
Fortunately for my legs I had, I thought, overcompensated with “damn”
level protection. That means an extra pair of polypropylene long johns
on top of the silks and Bergelenes. The poly johns are very effective at
blocking wind penetration.
. . . and after the ride.
My toes did not do as well. My boots were one level too
low on the cold scale Sunday. But, like the new gloves, I had to test
the limits of the new boots. I was able to score a full kilo of
Thinuslate in this pair. Still, it was not enough. My next level cold
protection is a pair of snowmobile boots rated to something like 40
below. These, with a one, sometimes even two, chemical heat packs keep
my toes toasty even at “holy crap cold” level riding.
There are rewards and liabilities riding in a group. One of the
liabilities is not being able to stop whenever you want, instead
depending upon the philosophy of the lead rider.
Still we survived. I do not think I was cold as some of
the new guys who did not have electrics. We loaned them some chemical
heat packs for their ride home.
Your blogger upon arrival. Brrrr!
Meanwhile, Montgomeryville Cycle warmed us well with free chili and
brownies, doughnuts and hot coffee. There was plenty, but then we
arrived, and left early. Still, I think the weather probably kept the
crowd at a manageable level.
We had a couple more riders earn their Polar Bear props this ride,
including Bart receiving his first patch. Now, in addition to earning
the Grand Tour patch, there is a unique Connecticut Polar Bear patch.
Grumpy had them made and awarded his first to a new CT Polar Bear
Sunday. To get one of our patches, you must first earn the Grand Tour
patch, and of course ride with the CT Bears.
While we currently count
Ron as a Harley rider, he was overheard trading information with a Gold
Wing salesman at Montgomeryville Cycle Center.
Bart an official CT Polar Bear.
Congratulations!
As Fonz tells it, if it were not for Pennsylvania's blue
laws, Ron may have ridden a Gold Wing home. I guess he doesn't fool
around when it comes to making up his mind. Or maybe he was thinking
about the Wing's heated seat and grips and the nifty toe warmers that
divert engine heat to your feetsies.
At Montgomeryville we found out
that the new riders joining us Sunday were both coworkers of Fonz, which
means they are part of Norwalk, Conn.'s finest. Dave perhaps will be
Norwalk's first motorcycle patrol officer. That's a very good thing.
First because we can never have enough motorcycle cops. Second because
of the two new guys, Ron exhibited a penchant for oncoming traffic.
(As I told Token last week, you see everything from the sweep
position.)
I think Ron was a little bit cold too.
At one point on the way home, a New Jersey state trooper
came up in the penultimate passing lane (we were in the farthest passing
lane) and paced us for a while. He then drove on. At Chez GSP there was
a discussion as to whether we were persons of interest to the trooper.
We made a new CT Polar Bear group riding policy right then and there,
passed by a popular vote. If a police officer ever activates his lights
to pull our group over, one of the proliferation of Norwalk cops who now
ride with us is to pull to the shoulder immediately while the rest of us
ride on.
Our three Norwalk, Conn. "smokey" polar
bears:
Fonz, Ron and Dave.
New riders Ron, left,
and Dave at Chez GSP after a cold ride.
The Fonz Reports . . .
My comments on the ride, I wanted to start with an update.
Apparently when I reported about the Captain's fan last week, I was
mistaken about how the encounter actually happened. You can be assured
that all of the Captain's body parts were safely tucked away when the
introduction was made.
The ride this Sunday was great! My friends (Ron and Dave) finally
joined me after hearing me talk about the Connecticut Polar Bears for
several weeks. Ron fishtailed and almost lost it coming out of one of
the gas stations in PA. I think I heard him say, "My bike has so much
power, that's what made the tires spin". Ron I hate to have to inform
you...it was the snow on the ground and a little TOO much throttle.
Riders rest at top of the Garden State
Parkway.
Thankfully he recovered quickly. Ron
enjoyed the ride so much I think he filled out paperwork to trade in two
of his bikes to upgrade to a Goldwing. Dave on the other hand is still
trying to figure out if it was all just a bad dream. Prior to Sunday,
Dave's only cold weather distance was 18ish miles one way to Norwalk,
CT. He has a greater respect for the Polar Bears now.
There was a
point in the ride, I believe we were in PA, that I felt like I was
riding through a Christmas Card. It was a beautiful sight and one I will
never forget. Due to my work schedule I will not be back until the end
of February. I will make every effort to join in prior that, but it
doesn't look promising.
Ralphie (Fonz)
Polar Cub
Dave liked the Montgomeryville chili so
much,
he brought some home to remind him.
P.S. Dave, freezing, trying
to laugh it off, but then quickly stated, "you guys are nuts, I can't
believe you do this every week." He may not come back. Ron did buy a
Goldwing.
More Pix:
there were so many submitted on this ride, here are a few more than I
had words enough to cover.
Token, John H., earned his 30-point patch
on this run.
Meanwhile, Captain, John K., collected
his gold.
Chris, your blogger, warm at lunch . . .
. . . and cold upon arrival.
Montgomeryville Cycle fed us well.
Bart in foreground, then Dave and Ron.
Token, foreground, and Captain partake.
Lots of laughs with good friends. Bart,
foreground and Dave.
Captain and CT Blogger.
You don't just jump on the bike and go in
winter.
Prepping are, from left, Dave, Bart and John J.
Token, left, and CT Blogger suiting up at
Chez GSP.
Token awaits our arrival at Tappan Zee.
Ready to join the pack as we pass.
CT Bears upon arrival in Montgomeryville.
John J. ready to depart.
Bart and John J. with snow in the
background.
Dave and John H.
Token may lose his nickname if these
Honda types keep showing.
Will Dave be back before March?
Bob photo of the week.
Flight B leaders Rich and Dave.
Grand Tour photographer
Walter Kern.
We took a group photo with this egg and
its owner,
although none of us understood why.
Week 8 CT Bears. Only
John K. and Johnny B. braved the rain.
morning sun in CT gave way
to rain all day, heavy at times, moving up from the south
Well
I had to work Sunday, as duty manager at The Maritime Aquarium at
Norwalk. Each of the executives has to put in a few weekends a year.
Meanwhile our most intrepid riders of course made the trip. Here is John
Kammerer, the Captain's, description.
My day started with the customary phone call from John H., but
instead of confirming a meeting point he said he wasn't feeling good
and would not be joining us today for the ride to the Cabin. The
night before at the Bridgeport Chapter HOG Christmas party I had to
listen to John J. explain that he would be going to a football game
and that Bart's bike was in the shop for handle bars. Bernie and
Rolly said they heard it was supposed to rain. I heard not a word
from Russ and Ralph had a shift change. Oh yeah and you (Chris) had
to work.
Festively decorated but mostly empty, The
Cabin in
Howell, NJ. hosted bears on bikes and in cars.
Well at at 8:45 A.M. John B. and John K. decided to leave
the DD early as we were convinced no one was coming.
Heading south
John and I rocketed down I-95 John B. in the lead with John K. as sweep
without those who shall remain nameless missing from the cradle.
We were making good time and encountered our first rain as we turned
south on the NJTP. It became steady once we exited on to the GSP south,
we arrived at the Cabin at 10:40 A.M.
Being early John B. took his pictures and we had lunch. (chicken of
course) At 11:30 A.M. John and I checked in and with 57 points I told
Rich to put a shine on the 60 point pin for next Sunday.
Bob photo of the week, with a hint of
Captain.
By the way Rich got a gerbling jacket and is so happy.
We left the Cabin at 11:45 A.M. stopped for gas then north on the GSP.
The rain was heavy and steady with reports of icing up north. Traffic
was light so we took the GWB and as we approached the last service area
on the NJTP John's bike started to back-fire and loose power. He
summoned all his skill to keep it going and the problem
eventually corrected itself.
The temperature was near freezing and our face shields were always
fogged up. As John B's vision was hampered by the shield he missed my
frantic signals to stop for a break. As I was sending signals since
exiting I-87 I finally pulled into the CT service area in Greenwich. I
continued north and found John B. dutifully waiting at the Norwalk
service area. we continued north and I arrived home at 2:30 P.M.