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 |
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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: 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. |
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Rides: Sorry, last season, 2008/09 there was no blog. You can also follow
this blog -- without pictures -- on Blogspot: Use your REFRESH button to see the latest entries.
Other essays: |
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Howell, NJ (2); January 24, 2010
Week 13 lucky bears, from left: Matt, Ralphie, Chris, John J., Pogy, John H., Johnny B., Russ, John K. |
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| 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. |
 Johns K & B at The Cabin the first time this season. |
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| 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. |
Bears staging at Dunkin' Donuts in
Stratford, from left: |
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| 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. |
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| 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: |
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| 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! |
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| 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. |
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| 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 |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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What is that thing in the center of those motorcycle riders? |
 Flight B. leader Rich. |
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CT Blogger lining up a photo. |
 Ralphie freezes his wife. See story below. |
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Token2 earns Gold this ride. |
 Token suiting up for the ride home. |
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Pogy got the math right and joined us on this ride. |
 John K. seems agitated, maybe remembering FOX news? |
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Fonz's Wife's StoryThis 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! |
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| 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 Note from Blogger: |
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Rockaway, NJ; January 31, 2010
Week 14 Bears, all Johns, from left: H, K & J. |
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Cold, dang cold, teens to
start, twenties to finish, under clear skies.Then there were
three.
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 John Howard reporting this week. |
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| 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? |
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| 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. |
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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. |
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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! |
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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. |
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| 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. |
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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." |
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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. |
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Phone home. |
 Matt foto. |
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| 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. |
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Pattenburg, N.J.; February 7, 2010
Week 15 Bears, from left: Pogy, Token2, CT Blogger, Nic, Captain and Grumpy. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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Weekly Bob shot. He made it, but in a car. |
 Look how much snow at my house! |
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| 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. |
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| 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. 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. |
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Pickle appears without fanfare. |
 Grumpy got his pickle. |
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| 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! 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." |
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| 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 and his unwelcome credit card. |
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C'mon Chris, put on your jacket and let's get going! |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
 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." |
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| 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. |
9:30 a.m. departure to Hooters next
Sunday, |
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Captain and Pogy walk
to Chez GSP, most northern, and |
Captain, left, and Grumpy, right, turned
out to be our most |
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Nic is Johnny B's grandson and often joins us. |
 Pogy treated for lunch this week. Thanks Pog! |
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John H. and Polar Bear Chairman Bob. |
 We made the Grand Tour site with Walter Kern's photo. |
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Johnny B. is the CT Bear's group photographer. |
 Chris, right, also takes blog photos. |
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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: Fonz, looking oh so tough; Russ, or his moustache at least; Pogy,
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Sorry blog fans . . .This entry, and next weeks', will have to wait. I had to work Presidents Day and have a flight out Tuesday, snow permitting, to, gosh darn it, California. The computer I am taking does not have the software to load this version of the blog with photos. Chances are I will write the narrative from last week on the long flight out tomorrow. (Well it's a long flight by MY standards, a short hop by Pogy's.) I may even post some California dreamin's too. You can follow along on BlogSpot, or just wait. |
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