Polar Bear Blog 2009/2010

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.
Rides:
 

Sorry, last season, 2008/09 there was no blog.

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.

Other essays:
My first Polar Bear ride.
Dimes and Throttles.
Tribute to fellow CT Bear Clark Makinson.


Join the CT Polar Bear Riders!

Howell, NJ (2); January 24, 2010

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog Week 13

Week 13 lucky bears, from left: Matt, Ralphie, Chris, John J., Pogy, John H., Johnny B., Russ, John K.
29 with low clouds to start; 39 and drizzle to end

For all but the Captain and Grumpy, this was our first ride to Howell this season. Johns B and K rode through some heavy rain and near sleet December 13. Thanks to the underpants bomber we were diverted from Fort Dix to The Cabin.

On the second ride to The Cabin we were luckier for weather than B and K. While Sunday's ride threatened a wet repeat of the previous week, we were missed most all the rain. It misted and drizzled for our ride home. It never rained drops.

Threat of rain was no deterrent for the Connecticut Polar Bears this time out. We rode with eight. Years ago that would have been a big turnout. Nowadays, we have picked up enough new regular riders eight is de rigueur on any given Sunday.

Johns K & B at The Cabin the first time this season.
Coming up from the south, the rain clouds also carried warmer air. Sunday's ride was more temperate. Still, I appreciated the enveloping warmth of my electric jacket.

We picked up Pogy, engine running and ready to join us, at the Darien rest stop. Token2 was back from England. Having left his wife and daughter in the U.K., and by his admission up early and bored, I was surprised to see him waiting for us at the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford. He rode a half-hour the wrong way just to turn around and join us for the ride back south to New Jersey.

I had no duties on this ride except to rest in the cradle, motoring along. While I enjoy touring alone, there is a certain luxury in letting someone else handle the navigation, determine the route and speed, as you relax and enjoy the ride.

Bears staging at Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, from left:
Chris, John K. and Russ.
It was misting lightly as we crossed from the New Jersey Turnpike to Garden State Parkway headed south. However roads across New Jersey horse country to the Cabin are not as rural nor tar snake strewn as those to Hillybilly Hall. Except for negotiating a couple of New Jersey's famous roundabouts, the ride was relaxing and uneventful.

Pogy presented me with a Connecticut Rider Education visibility vest. He says I got the last one. Most of them were made for instructors who joined the program earlier than I. It will be worn with pride and just may save me from getting run over by a cager someday.

We, well most all of us, enjoyed our lunch.
Grumpy eventually settled down and enjoyed his lunch. But they had Pepsi, not Coke and the waitress did not divulge such. Then she had unsweetened ice tea. Johnny B. took it gracefully in stride.

It is late enough into winter that talk turned to Daytona. Russ is organizing a ride. He's leaving mid-week after Bike Week has started, so Russ' ride is mostly riding. That's fine for me and fits with a conference I have scheduled the week before in Los Angeles.

Pogy in ConnREP safety vest like the one he presented me.
Daytona can be a very nice break in winter's tedium.

That second day of riding, as you descend through the Carolinas, you can start shedding layers. After riding all winter bundled in layers and tight-fitting long johns, and too thick socks and scarves tucked into full-face helmets, the warmth is nirvana.

Sometimes Florida treats us especially well and you find yourself riding around in shirt sleeves in February.

Not only is it warm, you get to act like a teenager again, one of legal drinking age, with no curfew.

It is like Leo's trike asserts, “Recycled teenager.” Leo is my hero. I have said it in this blog before. The day before our ride he celebrated his 94th birthday.

Other half of CT crew staging at Dunkin', from left:
John J., John H. and Johnny B.
 He still rides Polar Bear. I believe he earned a perfect attendance pin last season. Up until a couple years ago, Leo was still on two wheels. Now he rides a trike, obviously year round, apparently everywhere, anytime, all the time. You go Leo!

Our Polar Bear route choices are a topic of ongoing discussion. Apparently the Captain pissed off somebody at New Jersey DOT because they put a curse on John K.'s EZ Pass. They made him relinquish his preferred license plate style pass, the only person we know so banished. Then they registered his bike in two states, that we know of.

So as we scoot across the New York City parkways toward the George Washington Bridge most Polar Bear mornings, John K. prefers to jump onto Interstate 87.

Leo 94 years and 1 day. He's my hero!
(Photo by Walter Kern)
However that lands you on a GW Bridge on-ramp that is something of a motocross course. I really nailed a pothole last Sunday. Dead center. Saw it coming. Could not avoid it. It was deep. I thought I saw some dinosaur bones in it, but figured my fellow riders would not tolerate me stopping for an archeological investigation.

Because the road is so rough, Johnny B. does not like the I-87 option. He would prefer to parkway all the way. Unfortunately the last toll on the parkways before the bridge has gates. They pay no mind to John K.'s EZ Pass. One year the Captain plowed through a gate, anticipating it's opening when it didn't. In revenge the gates open no more for John K. No one else has any trouble with them at all.

In Vegas they would call it a “push.” Nobody's fault. Nobody wins.

John K. arriving, via I-87, in Howell, NJ.
Our options are limited. I suggested riding on down the West Side Highway and using the Lincoln Tunnel to cross the Hudson River. That was roundly ridiculed.

John J. suggested the Cross Bronx Expressway. That is like a miles long motocross course strewn with hazards and potholes and junk fallen off of passing trucks lined with a concrete canyon inhabited by gangs of thugs and criminals and prone to massive traffic jams anytime day or night.

I have a friend, David Vincent. He's from Memphis, Tenn. David has a gorgeous wife Cindy, a real Southern belle. David and I worked together as writers at a now defunct agricultural PR and advertising agency in Stamford. We hired David away from a big New York City PR agency.

John J. suggested the Cross Bronx Deathway Expressway.
So David tells the story of his first time crossing the delightful Cross Bronx Expressway. It is summer. It is hot. Poor Dave nails a pothole and snaps a tie rod. So Dave does what he would have done in Memphis. He pulls over to the shoulder, puts on the four way flashers, and he and Cindy start walking the shoulder to a nearby off ramp. This was before cell phones, so David figured to find a pay phone.

It was a short walk. David is wearing a Hawaiian shirt and jeans. Cindy is dressed in halter top, short shorts and tall heels. And like this they walk down the off ramp into the Bronx looking for a phone.

Dave notices the neighborhood is not looking too good. But he's a big guy and has been in the bad parts of Memphis before. Cindy is getting very nervous.

CT Bears, freshly arrived and lined up at The Cabin.
They find a service station with a tow truck. But the guy at the station tells them he can't go retrieve their car. Ain't got the permit. Tells Dave he has to call the cops.

So Dave uses the pay phone and gets a police dispatcher on the line. He gives the address of the service station, describes the location of his car and then the dispatcher says something David does not expect, “I want you to walk back to your car.”

In disbelief David replies, “You mean you want me to walk back on the shoulder of the expressway? Against traffic?”

The dispatcher replies, “You'll be safer.”

Fonz and CT Blogger ready for lunch.
Our ride this Sunday is to The Exchange in Rockaway, N.J. We can avoid the whole GW Bridge controversy on this one by taking the Tappan Zee Bridge going and coming. Then it is a short hop out Interstate 80.

MapQuest says just under 2 hours travel time. So let's set a 9:30 a.m. Departure time from Stratford, Conn.

Just 95 miles one way, I will come excruciatingly close to missing a point on this sucker.

Was it last year that this ride was so cold, or the year before? I remember pulling out every bit of clothing from my saddlebags and then stuffing polishing rags in my boots that one year. This Sunday's forecast is for cold, but not punishingly so. Forecast are temperatures in the high twenties.

Hope to see you soon.

Scroll down for a story & photos from Ralphie.

Bob H. and Sam A. holding court at The Cabin.

What is that thing in the center of those motorcycle riders?

Flight B. leader Rich.

CT Blogger lining up a photo.

Ralphie freezes his wife. See story below.

Token2 earns Gold this ride.

Token suiting up for the ride home.

Pogy got the math right and joined us on this ride.

John K. seems agitated, maybe remembering FOX news?

Back to top.

Fonz's Wife's Story

This is my pre-ride entry with a couple of pictures:

My wife Dollie read the blog and decided she wanted to see what all the cold weather riding hype was all about.

She read that Cynthia (Chris' wife) does not do Polar Bear. She only rides when the temperature is above 80 degrees and then rarely.

Dollie did not want to be looked at as a fair weather rider. She got dressed with what she thought was appropriate gear and we headed for, what she called, "A new adventure." When we left the house the temperature was in the mid-30's and the sun was shining. A GREAT RIDING DAY!

After about 30 minutes or so, she pulled over as if to adjust something. When I pulled up next to her, I quickly realized she was having an issue. Her hands were freezing! After using some of my body heat...I'll leave that up to the imagination, her hands quickly defrosted. I then gave her my Gortex gloves and I just sucked it up. We had a great ride. The only reason we cut it short was that I had to go to work.

Mrs. Fonz in the wind, the COLD wind!
When I got to work she sent my the following email:

"It was AWESOME going for a ride this afternoon even though I froze my ASS off and caught frostbite on my fingers. LOL LOL LOL. Today, I finally understand your madness to riding in this cold weather!!! When you first mentioned The Polar Bears I thought you were INSANE! I thought you were just trying to get out of going to church on Sundays. But, after today, I realized that YOU are NUTS but I get your desire to be a POLAR BEAR.

You have my support...I am just a novice rider for now but one day be certain I will join you for a POLAR BEAR ride when I stop thinking everyday is a level 5 day "Holy Crap It's Freakin Cold!"

With the support of my loving wife Dollie, of course a little brown nosing never hurts, I will be joining you on Sunday, then straight to work again.

Fonz
Polar Cub

Note from Blogger:
Dollie, hang in there, we do sometimes see 60 degree days.

Back to top.

Rockaway, NJ; January 31, 2010

Week 14 Bears, all Johns, from left: H, K & J.
Cold, dang cold, teens to start, twenties to finish, under clear skies.

Then there were three.
Story and Photos by Token2, special correspondent.

Only three CT Bears braved the cold to ride this week, John. J, John K. and your reporter John H. (aka Token 2), but I am getting ahead of myself.

Pre-ride e-mails declared Defcon 5 on the Loynd Scale that signals the degree of cold on Polar Bear rides and the dress code that is required. It was not an exaggeration. Having the second of two bachelor weekends on my hands I suited up and headed for the CTPB starting point at the Dunkin Donuts in Stratford; it was 8.15am and 8°F in Ridgefield on departure; so cold that the digital thermometer on the ST1300 blinked only dashes, no numbers, and for the second time in my PB career the condensate on the inside of the face shield froze. Yes, DefCon 5 was the right call.

John Howard reporting this week.
Being the first bear to arrive at DD at 9am, I headed inside for a cup of Joe and was joined a few minutes later by John.K. By 9.20am John J. had arrived, came into the store and as John K. and I did our best to ignore him as we got our Defcon 5  gear back on, so he left to wait outside. John J., let me be the first to apologize for the rudeness exhibited by the other guy for failing to properly greet you when you walked in DD!

So at 9.20am three CT Bears were waiting for the rest. We knew Russ could not ride due to family commitments; Bart and his heart had non-riding plans for the day (get well soon Bart!), but where was Johnny B.; and how about Ralphie ”Da Fonz” Fonseca who had suggested he might ride? We hadn’t even begun to think Chris, as early as it was and he had called Capt.K.  confirming he was riding.

J dissed by K?
At 9.25am, still only three bears; 9.32am still just the three Johns but then who should roll up in a CAR but Chris, with all his riding gear on, Gerbing’s jacket plugged into his vehicles power outlet no doubt. Evidently, the trusty Springer, though with electrical power available, had developed an ignition or starter problem so Chris could not get it fired up. The offer of John K.’s GWing was turned down in favor of getting his Harley to the shop for repair. Thus it came to be that only three CT Bears left for The Exchange, Rockaway, NJ a mere 95 miles distant.

As for Johnny B, two theories are at play, the first one is that he turned his alarm off, rolled over and went back to work (who views cable TV at 9.30am on a Sunday anyway?) or that he had called ahead to The Exchange, found out that they only serve RC Cola and scratched the ride in disgust not wanting to have back to back Coke free Sunday lunches. You decide

Weekly Bob shot.

Da Fonz is another mystery, though it is most likely that after last week’s blog report of the ride he and his wife Dollie went on, that Dollie, having documented frost bite in her fingers on her mid-week winter ride rescinded his riding permit for fear that other extremities could suffer from the severe cold.

Even Pogy was absent from the Darien rest stop. Did he leave to go home as in a previous week (we were a few minutes late)? Reader’s of the blog demand answers to these troublesome gaps in our knowledge.

The sky was a pristine, crystal blue for the ride with temperatures reaching a high of 29°F after the 13°F start from DD. Your author took the lead, John J. the sweep with the Capt., who should have been grateful for his good fortune, in the cradle. Let me preface the ride section of the report by noting that the entire ride was faultlessly led, yes,  it is true there were only two other bikes in the train. Yes, I know there are only 7 intersections/turns to be navigated in the entire 95 miles from the DD to The Exchange including the right turn out of the DD lot and the turn into The Exchange parking lot but you make your own luck in this game. Sweep also had a perfect day; the trouble was in the middle.

Rockaway arrivals, not our guys.

Traffic was fairly heavy on I95 southbound and pothole repair crews were also active slowing the first few miles of the trip but apart from that modest delay the rest of the day was fast and we encountered only light traffic. Fast, though apparently not fast enough for the guy in the cradle who kept riding up on my right hand shoulder like a mosquito buzzing in my ear (memo to self – bring DEET or pepper spray on future rides). Only later in the day did I find out that, allegedly, I had missed a transition from a 55mph to 65mph zone on I287 and the Capt. was frustrated as he was oscillating between 5th and 6th gear on his Road King. In my opinion he should never had upgraded his transmission and then we wouldn’t have had a problem, would we?

Oh, and the last time I missed a speed transition I got a ticket from a village officer.

K unhappy? Naaaah!

The outbound Tappan Zee Bridge crossing afforded an excellent view of the ice floes that covered much of the Hudson River. It is a magnificent river to view at any time of year, but the clarity of the winter air and the contrast of white from the ice added uniqueness to the scene.

We arrived at The Exchange at 11.10am and before I had parked trouble was brewing from the cradle. Now what?! “Don’t park there we will get blocked in” came the refrain from the center. Jeez.

John J. reported some concerns with his fingers as his electric gloves couldn’t keep up with the cold; however, the same fingers quickly recovered and were up to dialing home to report his arrival.

Proper parking at The Exchange.
Overall it seemed as though the turnout was fairly light. Dave and Rich had caged up to the destination as they had a little snow yesterday where they were, enough to keep them off two wheels. Both did a pretty good impression of Grumpy, seemingly missing their Sunday two wheel fix and seeing other PB’s rolling up, all smiles, having ridden.

We were ushered to our usual table at the rear of the restaurant and had a good lunch. Kristen and her friends, and she has many, served us during our stay. In all I think we had 5 different members of staff wait our table, from taking orders, refilling coffee and dropping off the check. All very efficient and everything arrived as ordered and in a timely fashion. Just for the record Capt K. did not have chicken as nothing chicken related on the menu grabbed him but he came as close to chicken as you can get by having eggs.

Dave and Rich had to drive in, in a car.

Matt found us tucked in the corner just as we had finished paying the bill and regaled us with his tale of woe about his Corn Boil. I was about to refer him for medical treatment of said boil but it turned out that he was denied rightful points from attending the summer PB corn boil run (or what was substituted for it), this was of particular concern as Matt was expecting to collect his 30 point rocker today. Bob appeared and a conference ensued in which the Capt. also became embroiled. We headed back to the bikes but by the time we got there John K. had disappeared, presumably to fight the good fight on behalf of Matt and his points. It must have been quite a fight as John J. and I kept ourselves amused while we waited and waited….and waited for the other John to emerge, which eventually he did. We departed before 12.30pm and made the short run to the Chez GSP, gassed up and were drinking coffee again just after 1pm courtesy of John J.

J and friendly waitress having an "Exchange."

John J. announced that as he is hosting a SuperBowl party it will not permit him the luxury of riding next week; during the coming week I for one will be checking the mail for my invitation as surely he just forgot to mention about it.

 The remainder of the ride to I684 (for me) was uneventful and that brings to an end the last PB ride of January, 2010. See you in February.

Note from Chris, CT Blogger:

John Howard's commentary is provided unaltered except for a few extra paragraph breaks to allow for photo sizes.

See below for Sunday, Feb. 7, departure info.

Usual table.

Phone home.

Matt foto.
This Sunday's ride, Feb. 7, is to the Landslide Saloon, Pattenburg, NJ. MapQuest says 2 1/2 hours riding time. So that makes for a 9:00 a.m. departure for the CT Bears. I picked up my bike Friday with a new battery installed and am ready to go.

Predictions of big snows are all south of us. Hopefully Jersey will dig out in time for our arrival Sunday. Maybe we should check our destination conditions before we leave. Snow here is supposed to end by noon. Let's hope we dodge the big accumulation.

I will be at the ConnREP Instructor Update in Cromwell all day Saturday. Whatever we get, I plan to dig out the big Springer for Sunday and meet you all at the Dunkin' at 9 a.m.

-- Chris

John J. when he's not watching football.

Back to top.

Pattenburg, N.J.; February 7, 2010

Week 15 Bears, from left: Pogy, Token2, CT Blogger, Nic, Captain and Grumpy.
15 to start, ‘pert near 30 to finish

We departed the day after a monster snow storm dubbed “snowmageddon” by President Obama blanketed southern New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland and Washington D.C. They got New England style weather. Connecticut received nary a flake.

Not content to read weather maps and radar sweeps I reached down to our destination with a phone call Saturday night. The girl who answered at Landslide Saloon might be a good date, if there are any single Polar Bears reading this blog. According to her they, “got about a foot of snow.” But she assured me they were still expecting the Bears, the parking lot was plowed out, local roads cleared and we should have no trouble riding motorcycles to them from Interstate 78.

Welcome from our hosts: Landslide Saloon.
I sent out an e-mail to our Connecticut crew sharing my report from Pattenburg and declaring my intention to ride on the morrow.

Turns out the biggest challenge we had was salt. The Interstates were clear and dry. The state road from the Interstate to the Landslide was clear as well with only a few wet spots, those rendered liquid by copious sodium chloride deposits. Sitting here in my study, I can still hear my chrome screaming out in the garage.

I am thinking the girl reporting from the Landslide might be a good date because when we arrived there it looked like they had, at most, four inches of snow on the ground. Anyone with such an optimistic and forgiving sense of proportion gives hope to many potential suitors.

How much snow? White coating in the parking lot is salt.
Since there are only three turns on the route from Stratford, Conn., to Pattenburg, N.J., I offered to take the lead. I had trouble with my navigation system still.

First of all it was so dang cold, the grease pencil kept chipping. It was hard to bear down enough to get a reasonable impression as I wrote my three turns on the Springer’s rear view mirror. When the pencil did chip, I had to deal with that paper wrapping, trying to get it started with a fingernail, shaking in the cold, peeling off too much paper only to break a chunk off the tip and then fumble with it all again.

Eventually I got the proper coordinates entered. But in my fighting with the grease pencil, I neglected to write the exit number off of I-78 and onto N.J. State 173 west. Such a small detail allowed my riding compatriots a bit of amusement at my expense.

Safely arrived, ahead of schedule, Grumpy, left, Token2.
I led our group of bikes off of the final interstate highway at the first exit for Route 173 west. I had remembered, even without the mirror, that it was a mere 1.6 miles from the exit to the Landslide Saloon. As the odometer clicked closer to that mark I had a sense of foreboding. We were running exactly parallel to the interstate. And as we rode beyond the distance expected, I saw up on my left, up high on the interstate, a sign declaring yet another exit for Route 173 west.

Okay, so there was a later exit. Can’t wait to hear the teasing I’ll get on this one. I can practically hear my compatriots cackling inside their helmets trailing on behind me.

We ride more than another 1.6 miles, still shadowing the interstate. And there is even another big green sign. There is yet another exit for 173 west. Who knew? Well if I had written the dang exit number on my mirror.

Our bikes in the parking lot along side cars & trucks.
There’s no time for pity. My attentions are needed to negotiate a traffic circle which catches the interstate off ramp and routes it our way. The circle is strongly familiar, whereas the earlier parts of 173 west already traveled were not.

Sure enough, just up the road apiece, the interstate has fallen away now, I’m not even clocking the odometer anymore, Landslide Saloon appears on the left. I see Polar Bear Grand Tour Photographer Walter Kern standing near the first entrance. We are coming in too hot to make that one and I lead us in the second entrance to park at the end of a line of cars and trucks.

As we come clomping into the Landslide, brother Bears from deeper in New Jersey are full of excitement, stories of big snow. Flight B Leader Rich shows pictures on his camera. Indefatigable Bob Hartpence, forced onto four wheels, was holding court nonetheless. 

  

Our arrival captured by Club Photographer Walter Kern.

Weekly Bob shot. He made it, but in a car.

Look how much snow at my house!
Sign in isn’t ready yet. We take a table and settle in to order lunch. Our attentive waitress asks if we want separate checks and I assure her we mean to make no trouble and she can put us all on just one tab. She needs a name for the tab and I whimsically offer, “John.” How is she to know we are three-fifths John?

Polar Bear Grand Pooh Bah Bob is joking that Jersey has all the snow this winter. “We’ll have to truck some of it up to Canada so they can hold the winter Olympics,” he quips.

At that point Pogy, who works at Sikorsky Aircraft, says that in fact one of his company’s helicopters is transporting snow to the Vancouver slopes. Canadian TV confirms Pogy’s report. The Sikorsky S64 Skycrane, the world’s second largest helicopter, has been carrying snow to the Olympic venue. Not from New Jersey, but from further up on Cypress Mountain in British Columbia.

They are also using trucks to transport snow, but Pogy’s bird delivers the freshest snow, topping off the slopes and half pipes to delight competitors.

Oh, and in case you are getting any ideas for your own ski festival, CTV reports the big helicopter rents for $10,000 per hour. Actually, that’s probably Canadian dollars, so you could get it for less here.

As New Jersey is getting pounded, Vancouver has enjoyed the warmest January in history.

Meanwhile, our food arrives. Our attentive waitress gets our orders onto the table with a smile and, unbeknownst to us, an acute ear. As she is placing the plates of food our always cheery eater grumbles something, he thought to himself only, about expecting at least a pickle to accompany his sandwich.

Sikorsky S64 Skycrane, outfitted with snow skids.

Pickle appears without fanfare.

Grumpy got his pickle.
Well it wasn’t a moment later that our waitress brought over condiments, extra napkins and such. Then, without a word, as if by slight-of-hand, a single dill spear appeared on a small plate in front of Grumpy.

And my Momma always told me you had to ask nicely!

As we finished our meals, it turns out I was right, John got the check, well at least he tried to.

Feeling magnanimous, John Kammerer offered to buy us all lunch. None of the other Johns, nor Pogy or I, objected.

Captain dropped his Discover card on the check and excused himself to, as he always says, “tap a bladder.”
 

Token2 with "super waitress."
Meanwhile the waitress comes up, picks up the card and the check, but returns soon after. The Landslide Saloon does not accept Discover, only Master Card and Visa. Well before the rest of us can start reaching for cash, Pogy pulls his more acceptable (to the Landslide anyway) credit card and offers to buy lunch for us all.

Captain returns to his bare Discover Card on the table, the restaurant check gone, and I tell him the truth, “Your card was refused.” His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare, but he knows better than to take the bait. “That card is good,” he says, “very good.”

“Well, they would not take it,” I retort. “Pogy had to pick up the tab.” John K’s blood is coming up, but John H lets slip that they don’t take Discover here. “I have other cards,” K says indignantly. “Yeah but we didn’t want to hafta wait for you,” I needle.

(That’s especially effective teasing because I, CT Blogger, Chris Loynd, am the very last Connecticut Polar Bear for anything: last to finish eating, last out of the bathroom, last to get dressed, last to square away on the motorcycle, last to show up at Dunkin’ Donuts in the morning, etc.)

Captain regains his dignity by insisting on buying coffee at Chez GSP on the way home.

Captain and his unwelcome credit card.

C'mon Chris, put on your jacket and let's get going!
Out in the Landslide parking lot we take our group photo and start bundling up for the ride home. Pogy had a handful of Connecticut Rider Education reflective safety stickers for John H, requested by Token to adorn his new BMW. Token2 is a graduate of the program. A former Connecticut Polar Bear Jim Ivanko was his instructor. Jim was one of the first to join us from Connecticut in winter riding.

As we are getting ready to go, the Captain needs gas. That’s unusually poor gas mileage for his Harley. I think it might have had something to do with the way he was snapping his throttle on and off on the ride over. I was in the lead and Captain was second bike. I noticed he kept running up on me and then drifting back. A couple of times he got so close I was tempted to kick his bike.

Token2 and Pogy. Token must think he's Churchill or something with that "V" for victory hand gesture.
Since as leader I was holding a rock-steady speed, one you could set your cruise control by, I can only figure Captain’s mind was elsewhere.

We had only five bikes. It should not have been hard to maintain group riding discipline. I think our turnout was low for fear of snow.

Oh, and apparently there was some football game later that day. But we made it home in plenty of time to watch the commercials.

Token2 was sweep and an admirable one. Anytime I was even thinking of changing lanes he was already there, holding back traffic creating a clear lane of opportunity for me.

John H. calls home, "Yes we made it just fine. Well if I wasn't sweeping I don't know if Chris would have gotten us here safely or not. But I pulled him through."
I was able to complete this week’s blog during a snow day Wednesday. “Blizzard” conditions are promised. So far it’s been tolerable. Maybe tomorrow I will wake up to a driveway full.

This Sunday’s ride, through a trick of the calendar, falls on Valentine’s Day. Better than that, by freak luck of our riding calendar, our destination is Hooters. My wife Cynthia does not seem to appreciate the irony. Not only am I going on a Polar Bear motorcycle ride on Valentine’s Day, I have the gall to ride to Hooters. Hey babe, I love you the same each and every day of the year! (Note to self: better get candy AND flowers!)

Hooters is one of our shortest rides of the year. The Hooters in South Wayne, N.J. traditionally also has the slowest service of any Polar Bear destination. So last week we got the brilliant idea that we would arrive early, say 11:00. That way we can eat lunch and then sign in for our Polar Bear Points when the Club Officials arrive, and still be back in Connecticut before Monday.

MapQuest says travel time is 1 hour and 39 minutes. So if we leave Stratford, Conn. at 9:30 a.m., we should be to Hooters by 11:00. Oh, and the distance is 83 miles, leaving us with an unsatisfying one, yes one, mileage point. Maybe Grumpy can squeak out the extra twenty miles. Token2 will be lucky to make 100 roundtrip miles. See you Sunday!

9:30 a.m. departure to Hooters next Sunday,
February 14, Valentines Day.

Captain and Pogy walk to Chez GSP, most northern, and
for us last, rest stop on the Garden State Parkway.

Captain, left, and Grumpy, right, turned out to be our most
intrepid Bears, fanatics for points and perfect attendance.

Nic is Johnny B's grandson and often joins us.

Pogy treated for lunch this week. Thanks Pog!

John H. and Polar Bear Chairman Bob.

We made the Grand Tour site with Walter Kern's photo.

Johnny B. is the CT Bear's group photographer.

Chris, right, also takes blog photos.

Nic also takes photos and the rest of these are his impression of Sunday's ride.

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South Wayne, NJ; February 14, 2010

Week 16 Bears, from left (front and back rows inclusive): Fonz, Russ, Pogy, Nic, Token2, CT Blogger, Grumpy, Captain.
Hooters? Really? On Valentines Day?

Yeah, it was not the most romantic thing I've ever done. Sorry hon! The Polar Bear calendar just fell that way.

We left extra early, anticipating glacial service based upon our experience with previous Hooters Polar Bear runs. John J. did not get his order until Monday last year. The waitress totally forgot about him. But you know what they say about if only they were brains.

This year our waitress was Crystal. That may be her real name. But I sorta doubt it. Sometimes such working girls assume aliases, I presume to protect their identity or perhaps to be more perky and memorable than their parents designed.

Hooters for Valentines Day? Sorry Hon!
A year ago on my November ride to the Florida Keys I spent a few days in South Beach. One night feeling like a drink at a bar I visited the local strip club. Strip clubs are one of the few bars where a fellow can drink alone and no one things any worse of it.

So this perky girl comes up trying to wheedle more money out of me than my $10 beer. She says her name is “Diamond” and asks me mine. “Is that your real name?” I ask. “Oh yes,” she gushes, “What's your name?” I tell her, “Penurious, but it doesn't mean what you think it does.” She didn't get the writers joke. I thought I was astoundingly clever. But maybe it was just the beer.

One of our guys asked Crystal how she told her dad she was working at Hooters. Her mom thought it was fun, she says, her dad had a harder time accepting it.

Crystal at Hooters, South Wayne.
As it turns out, Crystal was attentive and the kitchen not all that slow. We filled in the wait with fried pickles, something new to all of us. Reviews were mixed, but I liked them.

Of course I have not had anything deep fried that I did not like.

I saw this guy on the food channel once. They were running a show all about fried food. So this one chef down south, Texas maybe, decides to deep fat fry bacon., He was talking about how he had to get special, thickly-cut bacon so it would not disintegrate in the fryolator. Then he suspends several slices with toothpicks, breads the whole and drops it into the fryer.

That sounded about as fattening as could be to me. But this chef says something was missing still. Eventually he figured it out and amended his dish. He perfected the flavor by serving his deep fat fried bacon with gravy.

Fried pickles.
Hooters is the shortest run on the calendar for the Connecticut Bears. With our early departure we arrived at our destination before 11:00. Even so, there were bikes in the parking lot. Guess some guys just can't get enough orange.

It was only moderately cold, in the high twenties. If you think about it, 10 degrees does make a difference. Last week's 18 seemed a whole lot colder than this week's 28. Somehow you expect it to mean less in winter. In summer the difference between 80 and 90 degrees is certainly noticeable.

Grumpy and Nic had the lead. Token2 was sweep. In the cradle we had Captain, Fonz, Pogy and yours truly, CT Blogger.

Fonz and Pogy are quickly becoming regulars. And so every year, little by little, the mania spreads.

Still snow in Jersey.
Pogy will sign up next year. We will make sure to get him in before Bob Hartpence cuts off admission. Fonz joined us early enough to squeak under the 550 bear quota.

We discussed plans for Daytona. Some of Grumpy's buds are dropping out, mostly because of the economy. One lost a job, another had his vacation time restricted. Times are still very tough out there.

And when the times get tough, the tough go on vacation.

I was discussing my plans to go early to a convention in Los Angeles. When I commented on how long the flight is, poor Pogy almost choked on his fried pickle. He handles international business accounts for Sikorsky, peddling helicopters around the globe. I think he said the Sultan of Brunei was a client.

As Pogy said, when he gets to San Francisco he figures that's the homeward leg, short hop to the East Coast.

Pogy upon arrival. Token2 in background.
In Los Angeles. I have an IMAX movie convention to attend the week after our next Polar Bear run.. So I figured to take a bit of vacation time the week after our Valentines Hooters run. I rented a Harley Road Glide at LAX and toured the Pacific Coast Highway.

I can post on BlogSpot, text only. The photo enhanced blog on my own site requires software not carried in my little netbook. I may post a few stories from the left coast too. So subscribe to this blog if you want the earliest updates, or wait until I get home for the photo enhanced version, or read both.

This is the first Polar Bear blog post I have posted more than a week late. Sorry guys. I have been happily riding around California and will post those stories too.

Fonz, a new regular, upon arrival.
Meanwhile, I am sorry I missed you last week. Somebody send me a story, Token2?

I get back in, hopefully, in time to at least post your stuff before the Sunday ride to the Firehouse Eatery. If all goes well, I plan to join you on that ride.

Bart and John J.: I know you are following this blog and so will receive an automatic notification when it posts. If you like, share with our other regulars how they can read this entry if they wish. And please send out an e-mail to our core group for departure time, although they can likely figure it out on their own!

Hope to see you Sunday.

Enjoy! I am.

CT Blogger posted text for this ride from California. This post with pictures took a whole lot longer. Ah well . . .

Grumpy checks out Token2's new PB vest.

Polar Bear pride!

Vest carries his blog name and the coveted CTPB patch.

Rich, Captain and Grumpy, left to right.

Grumpy earned his 60-point pin this ride. Good thing, he starts
night shift and won't be able to finish the season.

CT Blogger earned his gold rocker this ride. Good thing 'cause the Aquarium is going to require a few Sundays this spring.

Classic Bob photo.

Good picture of Dave.

Must be Fonz's detective glare.

Captain hasn't missed a meet.

Pogy enjoys a story at Chez GSP.

Likely it was Russ doin' the tellin'.

Nic, we'll see you next season.

Yup, we got to Hooters plenty early this year.
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Highlands, N.J.; February 21, 2010

Week 17 Bears, back row from left: John K., Bart, John J. Cindy, Ken, Russ.
Up front: John H., your reporter for this ride. CT Blogger is in California, aw shucks!

Hello, Token here. It would be nice to think that I have returned by popular demand to document the ride this week, but the reality is that I have been brought back off the bench to fill in for the absence of the genuine Blogger who is out on the West Coast, allegedly for a business related conference. We are looking forward to his ride and beach reports as his time permits!

As for the rest of us who remained in the Northeast we suited up on a BE-A-utiful winters day for the 18th PB meeting of the season and motored south under a deep blue cloudless sky to head to Bahr’s Landing, Highlands, NJ. With John K. in lead, Russ C. and John J. headed down from Stratford with Ken Morel and his pillion Cindy in the sweep role. Nice to see Ken back on a PB ride after more than a season passed if I recall correctly. We also welcomed Bart back, fitter than ever, on his increasingly tricked out Harley…holy cow, that thing sparkles. It was a pleasant 36°F on departure from Ridgefield and the high for the day reached a balmy 50°F.

CT Bears arrive in sunshine next to the twin lighthouses.

Johnny B. was unable to ride this week due to work commitments and while we all missed him John K, John J. and I breathed a little sigh of relief as it was this ride last year that saw us pushing John B. along the margins of the I-95 south, in the cold and the rain, trying to get him running to spare his battery as his stator progressively failed. As we neared Highlands we passed the Motel where his Harley finally gave up the ghost. Twelve months ago with the assistance of a very accommodating manager/owner of the Motel we rigged his bike up with a mobile charger to juice the battery up while we rode on the last few miles to Bahr’s Landing. The images of John B. riding ‘Bitch’ on John J’s. Road King are forever burned in the minds of those who witnessed it. Ultimately Johnny B. had to call for his wife to bring the truck down to Jersey to trailer him home. It was a long day.

Fast forward to this year and the ride by comparison was totally uneventful and unremarkable, well almost.

CT Bears upon arrival. Bart, his back to camera, Russ and Kenny in the background.

Every motorcyclist worth their salt is aware of the risks brought on by ‘target fixation’, it can happen to any of us and you have to snap out of it sharpish to avoid a sticky ending. As I write this account I realize that the same issue of target fixation can occur with the written word and regular readers will know the target that is frequently fixed upon is Capt. K; at the risk of having a literary sticky ending it is my duty to document the facts.

Capt. K. was obviously fully recovered from the head cold that afflicted him on the ride last week, but seemingly the medication had yet to fully wear off as he established a blistering pace for much of the ride south until the GSP was reached. The elastic between lead and sweep was often s-t-e-t-c-h-e-d but somehow resisted breaking; as John J. commented at one of the numerous traffic light stops as we neared Bahr’s Landing, “Remind me to ask the Captain where the fire is!”. LOL.

In fact the pace was so substantial that it shook the fasteners off the left hand exhaust on John J’s bike rendering the need for a temporary repair with a 10 inch cable tie.

Captain wuz cookin'.

In my opinion Bahr’s Landing is in the top 5 destinations for the quality and choice of food offerings and is among my favorites. That sentiment is probably echoed by the rest of the group, as evidenced by the selection of lobster rolls, oyster Po Boy’s, clam rolls, crab cake sandwich and steak and eggs. $TEAK and EGG$, yikes!

A special mention is appropriate to record that Bart did the right thing for his health and sucked it up by ordering a chicken Caesar salad (light dressing) while the rest of us chowed on high cal goodies and the picture of his dish proves the point (Mrs. Bart should be impressed).

Congratulations are due to John J. who reached the 45 point milestone and collected his gold rocker as a result. Way to go!

Matt swung by and visited the CT table but declined an invitation to join for food as he had a riding buddy with him and claimed with some justification that the table couldn’t easily accommodate two more people. The alternative explanation is that he wants to keep his latent desire to be a CT Bear hidden from fellow Jersey residents (or was it the jokes Russ was telling?).

John J's bike shook loose.

Bart eating heart healthy!

  

But at least he was awarded a gold rocker!

Anyway Matt’s drive to defect from the NJ Bear clan found voice in an enquiry about a CT Bear patch for his newly embroidered Grand Tour vest; I did not respond to the question as I do not have the authority to make such a landmark decision.

However, since I have the power of the pen I thought I would use the vehicle of the blog to suggest a special session of the CT Bear Patch rules committee be convened to consider this Out-Of-State request.

Advance apologies to Matt if this blog entry blows his cover and he gets chased from New Joyzee.

If that should happen please leave your luminescent riding apparel at the NJ state line as you exit, such attire is illegal in CT.

The bridge work at Bahr’s Landing is nearing completion, or at least is at the point where a straight shot from the parking lot gets you back onto route 36 east, avoiding the serpentine exit through the town itself.

Bright Jersey Matt. Can a non-Connecticut rider wear our patch?

The easy exit set the tone for the return ride, very smooth though things got a little ragged and the group spread out through traffic as we exited the Montvale Services after the customary coffee stop.

On a final note it was a pleasure to have Cindy along who I met for the first time but was already known to several in the group from the Bridgeport Hog Chapter.

Rare indeed is it that we have a female in the ranks of the CT Bears.

Onward to the Firehouse Eatery!

Captain and Cindy. Well at least she seems amused!

Bob picture of the week.

Cindy, foreground, and Ken.
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Rahway, NJ; February 28, 2010

Week 18 Bears, from left: Fonz, Captain and Token2.
Report by John Howard. (Your blogger was in California.)

CT Blogger’s extended stay in California, courtesy of the disruption in the airline schedule resulting from the historic Nor’easter storm once again forces a report from your trusty stand in. Blogger’s absence also causes disruption in the planning for the Sunday rides as there was no broadcast e-mail posting of the departure, but through some miracle of disorganization three CT Bears managed to get their act together to make the ride to the Firehouse in Rahway, NJ. John, K and Fonzie rode down from Stratford and picked up John H. prior to the journey south on the Hutch. John J. still had to repair his ride (tsk, tsk Jackson, better jump on it for next week!), Bart was polishing his chrome and preserving the look from the snow melt prior to riding down to Daytona with Russ on Monday; Russ himself had family plans. Grumpy is already Florida and Pogy was away on business. So all Bears were accounted for “No CT Bear left behind” is always the plan.

Capt. took the lead and Fonz impressed with his first PB sweep with Token rocked in the cradle on his GS Beemer. “Nein, nein, nein zis is unacceptable!!!” I hear the Berlin engineers wail, such a fine piece of German engineering sandwiched between Milwaukee iron. Sorry Motorrad guys, what can I say “Sh*t happens J”. Capt. K led a good ride without the mustard that characterized the prior week’s effort. The presence of a police detective in the sweep position may have contributed to the modest pace.

The forecast for the day was not very special; 50% chance of rain and snow showers, pretty much par for the annual ride to Rahway. As things turned out the day was a little better than advertised; 35°F on departure from Ridgefield under leaden skies gave way to a nice period of mixed sun and clouds on reaching the pick-up point in Westchester County. A few flakes and spots of rain fell during the ride, but spray from the snow melt was more troublesome. The high for the day reached 40°F. Turnout seemed light; the forecast, the state of back roads and the lure of Bike Week may have contributed to the low numbers, though our early arrival just after 11am may also have been a factor.

The route taken was the subject of discussion between Johns’ K and H on Saturday. John K. indicated that the GWB route was the shortest while John H. thought the usual route was via the GSP. Turned out both were correct. We followed the GWB and NJ turnpike route but as we left the Turnpike it was clear it was not the customary route that the CT Bears take. In any event it worked out. What is clear is that pothole season is well underway with some doozies spotted along the way. Bikers beware.

Fonz took his first PB sweep position.

Sign in was a quick affair and your author achieved his 60 point pin for the season; a cause for celebration and also the fourth anniversary of his inaugural PB ride. One ride was all that it took to be hooked on the Polar Bear tour; two wheel “crack’ it turns out.

The Capt. generously picked up the lunch tab which was of customarily high quality with attentive service. Thank you Capt. and the staff at the Firehouse.

The journey home was uneventful, with a ‘gas and go’ and boys room pit-stop only at the Montvale services. The only report worthy comment being to apologize to the female senior who happened to walk past as Fonzie fired up his Harley, she visibly jumped and is probably questioning her continued need for a hearing aid.

Token picked up his 60 point pin.

Back home in Ridgefield by 2pm with the bike washed down by 2.15pm and chrome polished. What chrome? Well if you look closely I am referring to that bit of chrome that forms the ring around the BMW logo; and there are TWO of them! That is quite a bit more than I have on the Honda.

Token2 , over and out.

 

Captain parks his bike with snow in the background.

Great shot, John H.; that's what this is about, riding with
friends and having fun, regardless of the season.

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