Polar Bear Blog 2006/7

If you've stumbled onto this page out of curiosity, you're welcome to stay and read the saga of riding motorcycles in the winter.

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

After exiting I-287 in Jersey, John B. led us through some scenic Pennsylvania farm country. We rode through a small town or two with those distinctive Penn. style brick buildings built close to the highway.

Following MapQuest's advice, John B. took us most all the way on Route 202. He did a great job of navigating. The one turn he almost missed was pointed out by a fellow bear with PA plates, who passed us on his Road King, beeped and then made a right turn across the front of our line to show us the way. John B. wasn't ashamed to take the hint, and we arrived in good time.

Inside the cavernous dealership, they had hot coffee and great doughnuts. The good folks at Montgomeryville were just starting to get lunch preparations underway. So we waited in the rapidly forming sign-in line instead.

A little chit-chat here and there and we headed back to the dealership floor where they had moved out all the bikes and laid out tables and chairs for hungry bears.

As soon as I finished signing my Flight B log, I turned around to see the sign-in line had grown double. Over in the corner of the showroom floor I saw another line forming for food and went there directly.

They were serving hot, wet, roast beef sandwiches and cold macaroni salad. To drink they offered a choice of cold sodas or hot coffee. The roast beef was wonderful. It was generously heaped on a bun, there was a pot of au jus at the end of then line where you could ladle on even a bit more flavor. It was melt-in-your-mouth tender.

I'm writing a thank you note to Montgomeryville Cycle Center!

This is as close as Bernie will get to a Montgomeryville Cycle Center roast beef sandwich this year.
(Photo by John B.)

Bernie had some shopping to do at a nearby Cabellas store and so drove down in his truck. His plan was to meet us at Montgomeryville for lunch and sign-in for at least his one-point. I heard from Bernie at the HOG meeting the next Wednesday that we were gone before he arrived.

Unfortunately, so was the roast beef. Due to a larger-than-anticipated turnout, Bernie got a hot dog instead.

Our bikes in the back of the top lot were nearly blocked. We took our group picture and began sealing up the final layers of clothing to make our escape.

John B. decided to lead us home a different route. He took us straight north on Route 611 to catch Interstate 78 heading back east.

I sure hope I don't see a charge from that station next month. I walked away from a gas pump ready to go -- on my tab.

Frustrated and flustered by the experience, we mounted up and headed home. But a mile or so from the station, Frank pulled off onto a grass shoulder and shook his head.

Sooner or later I figured John B. would notice he was short a few bikes and would wait for us. Turns out it was sooner, much sooner. When John K. and Frank caught up with me, we turned up the ramp only to find our fellow bears 50 yards ahead and waiting patiently.

John B. led us to Bethlehem -- Pennsylvania that is -- a nice gesture I thought considering the approach of Christmas. He maybe could have skipped some of the scarier parts of the old steel town. However he offered us a bonus overlook of the old works. It was an amazing sight, acres of huge and idle buildings along abandoned railroad tracks down in the dirty valley below us.

After that bit of depressing scenery and an increasingly urban route, John K. and his GPS came to our rescue. K. rode from his sweep position up to the front of the line at a stop light, motioned a right turn to B., and then patiently waited for the line of bikes to pass him. B. took the direction well and we were soon humming along the Interstates to home.

We stopped for a coffee in Greenwich and then motored on, each beeping and waving, peeling off in ones and twos for the last bit home. Coming up the Merritt Parkway on our final leg, did any of you guys see the moon rise? It came up early through thin clouds with the sun still up. Close to full, it looked like a cloud itself, albeit one in a perfect circle. Then it gradually grew stronger as the sun weakened.

Taking a hint from the Montgomeryville Cycle Center food experience (thanks for the report Bernie), we will set a departure time of 8:00 a.m. to make sure we get over to Snydersville, PA this Sunday for some of Ruth Schoch's famous, fabulous, split pea soup, before she runs out.

Schoch's H-D is a sentimental ride for me. It was my first PB destination. It was our friend Clark's last ride.

Just this week his niece Virginia found our PB blog and sent me an e-mail, which I have her permission to share with you here:

There was plenty in Schoch's beautiful dealership to help us mark the time until sign-in opened and lunch was served. Schoch's has a small but fascinating mini-museum of vintage Harleys, including a Harley snowmobile. Plus we were pretty much first in line for the bathroom! What's the downside?

As I was signing in Richard, our Flight B leader, remarked about one of our Connecticut riders asking about the 2006/7 rockers. I said that had to be John K. And Rich said, "Oh yeah! The blood guy?"

Okay John, now you've got your rep, and soon your patch to prove it: a blood red rocker.

First was a steaming cup of coffee. Soon enough the chili came out, hot and spicy. Meanwhile I sampled a bit of the split pea soup, but it was still cold. Next I caught a waft of grilling hot dogs and entered the line once more.

The good folks at Schoch's kept it coming. Their front porch warmed to a non-winter-like sun.

 While the morning ride over to Pennsylvania was nearly cold, the afternoon was warm by PB standards and sunny bright. Previous rides to this destination offered some of the first snow I saw each season. Due to the rise in elevation, the Pocono Mountains often had snow before our more northerly Connecticut. But not this year!

Syndersville may be one of the most scenic PB runs. Later in the season there is that nice ride to Long Valley up in the mountains. But today's ride was about 70 percent scenic. (Hey no matter what you gotta get around Bridgeport and on most rides NYC. So there are no 100% scenic PB rides for us Connecticut Bears.)

At right "Santa" Steve Accardi rode with that fuzzy helmet and beard aboard his tinseled Yamaha Midnight Star.

I mistakenly thought he was aboard a Harley-Davidson and cited such in this blog as proof that Santa rode a Harley. Darned if those Japanese aren't good copycats. I should have taken a closer look. Steve e-mailed me in September 2007, requesting this correction.

Our ride down and back was uneventful.

We made sure Joe had properly topped-off his gas tank. This is the ride last year where we ran him out on the GSP! He bounced and cajoled his bike off the expressway and into a gas station. Starved for fuel, his Road King stalled several times. By some good luck he always got it started again and made it to the pumps. This year we all had fuel to spare.

The Cabin offered up copious portions of very good food at a very good price. Or maybe we are jaded paying Connecticut prices.

We rode straight down. Weather was still warm for Polar Bear riding.

On the way back we stopped at Chez GSP at the top of the Parkway for a coffee. Ken explained his frog, and I won't steal his thunder here. If you are curious, you'll just have to ask him to see it.

Maybe the cagers were all Christmas shopping. We sailed feet-up over the Tappan Zee and home, with the sun still up but fading in warmth.

NOTE: Ride to Vineland, NJ, January 7th, leaves the Dunkin' Donuts at 7:30 am. Welcome back!

Hopefully you got out too. Saturday was one of God's gifts to motorcyclists. Here it is, January 6th, and the high temperature is cracking 70 degrees.

Another advantage was a chance to enjoy some of the regional and ethnic foods I crave. To put it in perspective, if you Connecticut folks moved away you might actually miss that cardboard dry, brick oven blackened, thin pizza crust about which you all rave. I can tell you I had never tasted anything like it until I moved to Connecticut!

For me it was Philly steak sandwiches for dinner and scrapple for breakfast. I have yet to find a decent steak sandwich in Connecticut. It's probably like trying to find a good lobster roll in Philadelphia. Some foods just don't travel well.

The only disadvantage of riding down by myself Saturday was missing out on earning an extra Polar Bear point. I simply figured the MapQuest mileage because it wouldn't be fair to add my Delaware diversion to the total. But as it turned out Sunday morning, Johnny B. led the Connecticut Bears on an extra loop, thereby boosting their point totals. At least that's what they were claiming.

I believe John B. when he quotes Flight Leader Rich as saying we should report the mileage we actually traveled, not the MapQuest miles. And I can see counting the extra Tappan Zee miles because the GW Bridge is near impossible in most every circumstance. However I'm pretty sure Rich did not mean to ride around in circles to boost our point standing.

John B. has joined the ranks of digitally disabled navigators. As Joe pointed out, John B. never led us astray when he relied upon paper navigation. But on the way down, John and his new Tom-Tom overshot Vineland. The way I heard it, he must have realized his computer's error when he saw signs for the Delaware Memorial Bridge.

According to Russ, John-John then pulled the satellite receiver off of his handlebars to scrutinize the misdirection; he even passed it around to his fellow Bears to see what they could make of it.

Johnny B. got a bit defensive. These Bears can be a tough crowd when making fun of each other. John K., our more infamous digitally disabled navigator, was basking in the shadows, now that the limelight was on John B. Carl, another digital devotee, was keeping pretty quiet, hoping nobody recalled his Martha misadventures.

Rich also gave me a 60-point pin, but it was in error. Me, I don't pay much attention to the points. I sign-in and let my PB Flight Leaders do the math. Even though I'm only a single set of blood points behind John K. this year, I really have not paid attention to the actual number. John K., on the other hand, knows EXACTLY what his PB Point total is. (I think he has it taped to his shaving mirror at home.)

Worried more about Sunday afternoon traffic than time, we took an extra half-hour to cross southern Jersey, traveling on east from Vineland to pick up the Garden State Parkway. It was a nice ride, still warm for Polar Bear weather.

We actually rode home in leisurely fashion with three stops. I required the first because my gas tank was out of synch with the others. I took a full one as they topped off their half-tanks. The second stop was called by Joe to empty his tank. And we took a coffee stop at the top of the GSP just because.

Our destination is a new one for the Bears. It's a nice and easy route and avoids NYC completely. We go 287 to 80 then up 15 a bit. MapQuest says 2 hours, 106 miles one way.

I wish to offer a very big "Thank You" to our PB Flight Leaders. Each member's sign-in page had an especially printed, removable, set of directions for the new destination. Bob Hartpence mentioned something offhand about working on "the books" over the holiday. These guys do a lot of extra work so we can have fun. And I want to say here publicly, how much I truly appreciate all the efforts of all the Polar Bear volunteers.

Since Sunday might be nasty weather, let's have a 9:35 am departure time. That gives Mother Nature time to warm up a bit and still gets us to our destination at the start of sign-in. We should easily get home before dark. If it is raining, the restaurant staff is less likely to be so overwhelmed. I'm guessing a lot of the Polar "Cubs" will drop out for inclement weather.

(If you don't get the reference, last Sunday was what I call "Clint Eastwood" weather. As old Dirty Harry said, "You gotta ask yourself just one question, 'Do I feel lucky?' Well do ya punk?")

As Sunday got closer the weather forecast improved, from "heavy showers" predicted mid-week to a mere "50% chance of showers" predicted Saturday night.

Fortunately for us, such was the case. We rode through a bit of misting, never even so much as a sprinkle. The threat of rain was enough to keep the Polar Cubs warm in their beds and dry in their cages.

The perfect attendance aspirants: Johns B & K and me (Chris) all rode. Frank joined us, surprising even himself. He says at the last minute he figured, what the heck!

The low turnout due to threat of rain was probably a good thing. All of us who rode from Connecticut wondered whether if weather had been better would Warehouse Grill fit a regular PB crowd?

We also congratulated Flight Leader Dave on his return. He seems to be getting along okay on a new plastic and titanium knee. Way to go Dave!

His backup plan to keep perfect attendance, in case he does work too late or can't get enough rest, is to have his wife Margaret drive with him to the PB meet in his truck.

When I mentioned John B's plan to my wife, Cynthia, she said it is a very good thing I don't work shift work, because there was no way she was driving my "Polar Butt" to New Jersey. She just doesn't get it. Hun, it's all about the patches and pins. I mean look at the photos!

My head was spinning as these guys described the various machinations of hours and days. Then John K. piped in (note my clever nautical reference) by saying how they endured shifts on the submarine.

To be continued . . .

This coming Sunday's destination is Sir John's Restaurant in New Brunswick, NJ. Or as Jersey folk say, "Exit 9."

Years ago when I moved from Milwaukee to the Princeton, NJ area, I was telling my sister that I was moving to New Jersey. Her response: "Oh yeah? What exit?" Ask a good many New Jersey residents where they live and they'll give you their exit before their town or city. By the way I did live just off the NJ Turnpike, Exit 8, Hightstown.

And another thing, how much does MapQuest really know about me? I mean it's scary. The last possible time I checked on this destination was this time LAST YEAR! Yet when I typed in the first bit of "230 Wash. . ." MapQuest filled in the rest. Same with "North Brunswick." Are they really devoting server space to a search I did a year ago so they can save me a moment of typing? And if so, is some government agency keeping track of all the places for which I searched MapQuest for directions? And because I used MapQuest four times in this entry, are they now monitoring my web site? Heck, they probably are tracking our every move through you guys with the satellite-enabled motorcycles. It's a scary world we live in.

Back on subject, my free web mapping service says it should take two hours to travel the 102 miles from my house to Sir John's. But that's taking us down I-95 to the NJ Turnpike. We can try the parkways trick to reach the foot of the GW Bridge, or take our usual, less-traffic, route over the Tappan Zee to the Garden State Parkway. The GSP and NJTPKE cross at Exit 11, just two exits above our destination.