| 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. Last year I figured my Polar Bear (PB) missives would be a good excuse to try this blogging thing. I enjoy writing and the antics of my fellow Polar Bears often provide good fodder. There were some pretty good stories over the past years. But they were written in transient e-mails now lost. I never expected this blog to reach out much beyond my Connecticut compatriots. But as the weeks went on and the stories grew, so did the blog's popularity. |
Me, Chris Loynd, on my |
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| Our fellow PB riders throughout the tri-state
area have e-mailed me or said hello at the Sunday meets to say how they
enjoy reading about our adventures. 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 Wednesday after our Sunday ride. 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. Departure times for the coming week
are posted at the bottom of the past week's blog entry. |
 Polar Bear Riders from 2004. Full face helmets, plenty of layers and electric clothing keep us toasty. |
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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!) |
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Rides:
Use your REFRESH button to see the latest entries. |
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Lake
Hopatcong, NJ; January 6, 2024
Week 11 Bears: Party
on dudes and dude-ette! Fellow bear Bernie keeps turning out new bears. |
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| morning 39۫
afternoon 43۫ some sun peaking through mostly overcast skies; it rained
earlier in the morning, never on us, just wet enough to dirty the bikes. And a good time was had by all. A little warmth, Bernie's recruiting efforts, maybe the New Year itself ― we turned out a crowd last Sunday. Ten bikes and 11 people. Plus Matthew Goddard, our adopted NJ bear, joined us for lunch. We allowed him to sit with us once he promised to hide his Christmas-present-new riding jacket. But before we get to neon lime, the color of greatest interest is no doubt blonde. |
Joining us last week, Mark classed up
the CT Bears with his beautiful blonde wife Selina and land yacht BMW
K1200. |
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Bernie's Branford banker, Selina saw her customer in a Sturgis tee shirt one day. She asked Bernie if he rode, then commented that she and her husband ride motorcycles. What they were looking for was folks to ride with, especially in winter time when most of their other riding friends do not. "Do I have a riding club for you," I am sure Bernie exclaimed. |
Blonde Selina. |
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Selina and husband Mark fit right in with our Connecticut Bears. They were a lot of fun; immediately giving as good as they got. With his piercing blue eyes and a last name like Sattelberger, there's no way Mark is not riding a BMW. In fact he has a big silver land yacht, a liquid cooled K 1200. I did not press, and they did not sign-up, but I have a feeling we may see Selina and Mark again. They seemed to have a good time. And they probably will join us again . . . if Russ did not scare them off! Another new CT bear signed up on this, his first ride. After two, maybe three, years of talking about riding Polar Bear with us, fellow Bridgeport HOG John Jackson showed up Sunday. |
John Jackson signs up as a new Polar
Bear. |
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His experience must have been a positive one. He shelled out his registration bucks. Polar Bear Grand Pooh-Bah Bob Hartpence took him under his wing and signed him to flight B I believe. Russ doesn't scare John Jackson. He knows Russ well enough from our summer HOG rides and winter meetings. Of course Russ doesn't care what any of us thinks. The Germans have a wonderful saying, "When you lose your good reputation you can live quite freely." Russ gave his away years ago, probably to the U.S. Navy. The biggest problem in John Jackson joining us is that his first name is shared by three other CT Bears. To help my blog readers keep track, I may just name him Fred. But I guess we'll have to settle for John J. |
Self portrait with our newest John, J.
He was going for the horns behind me but my camera angle was too low. |
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What will we do when a John with a same last name initial joins us someday? Is it me, or are these Johns starting to sound like the "Men in Black?" They are the Johns, the Johns in black, black leather that is: B, H, J, K. Also joining us on his first ride was Al Lanza. Another friend of Bernie, Al is the Director of the New Haven (CT) Harley Owners Group, HOG, of which Bernie is a member. Bernie is also a member of our Bridgeport HOGs. Does that make him bi-hog? Those New Haven HOGs must ride with a lot of Sportsters. A small and nimble Harley, Sportsters are known for shortening group rides. While most of our Harleys can go 180 miles or so on a tank of gas, Sportsters max out at 100 miles. One rumor as to why John J. took so long to go from Polar Bear wannabe to Flight B was that he first had to buy a Road King. |
Al Lanza, Director of the New Haven
(CT) HOGs |
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He still has the Sporty, and is a member of the XL club (Harley-Davidson's model designation for Sportster models is "XL"). But he wisely left the Sporty home and rode the big bike for the Polar Bear run. Now Al's Harley Ultra Classic should go the distance with the rest of us. Well, except for John H. and his Honda ST which has a range of 900-some miles on a single tank of regular gas. (John replied to this statement by saying that to get 900 miles he must resort to premium gas. Otherwise he stands by my assertion.) Clocking just 105 miles to the Wearhouse Grill, Al dove for a gas station, dropping out of line when the light on his EFI gas gauge blinked. Hopefully Al was impressed with our Bridgeport HOG road captains. Like sheep dogs that tolerate no strays, both John K. and Ken dropped out with Al. John K. then came on ahead to inform us of Al's absence. |
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| Speaking of riding on small bikes, what to our wondering
eyes should appear but a tiny KTM with New Hampshire plates! Sure enough
Randy Tefft was inside. Anytime our CT Polar Bears and other blog readers think we are doing something special riding our motorcycles all the way from Connecticut, consider Randy, usually on his 100,000 mile plus Moto Guzzi Quota. Randy too registered for the Polar Bears on this ride, his first of the season. With the distance he covers, he generally qualifies for his patch in just a few Sundays. |
New Hampshire Bear Randy Tefft finally
showed up and registered on his first run of the season. |
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Randy from New Hampshire's ride this
week. |
When I tried to give Randy some stuff about riding the little KTM he
mentioned he didn't want his new Guzzi messed up with the little bit of
rain we got last Sunday. Maybe the forecast was worse further north? Then he goes on to say he just switched out the KTM's tires from
knobbies the week before. Just as we were settling down for lunch the room was lit by an unearthly glow. At first I thought it might be an alien invasion. |
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| But it turns out our adopted NJ Bear got a new
Darien jacket from Aerostitch. His wife bought it for him for Christmas.
Out of concern she chose the "Hi-Viz Lime" color. Note to Matt's wife: It works! Once you get over the initial and visceral "ewe" reaction and your stomach settles back down, one undeniable fact remains, you can be seen by other drivers, even dead ones. Matt you gotta get some miles on that brand new jacket. Hopefully a bit of road crud will dial it down just a bit. So my blog readers would believe me I put my digital camera's CCD module in harm's way and snapped the picture at right. I accept no responsibility if viewing this blows out your computer screen or fries your eyeballs. Be sure to say hi to Matt at our next Polar Bear meet. You won't have any trouble finding him! Once he took that jacket off and I think maybe we even made him turn it inside out, Matt joined us for lunch. From the bits of conversation I overheard, it sounded like Matt also got a motorcycle GPS for Christmas. Wow! I can't even get my wife to acknowledge my motorcycle. She just rolls her eyes at me as I suit up each Sunday. |
Can you see me now? Matt glows in new
Christmas duds. |
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| Here Matt's wife is buying him a riding jacket
and a Tom Tom. I'm pretty sure Matt was saying something about a Tom Tom
because he was discussing it with our GPS afflicted John-John, also
known as Grumpy. Matt, did Grumpy tell you how his particular model Tom Tom is programmed to find every Dunkin' Donuts in the country? That way even if you're lost you can be lost with a nice, steaming, cup of joe. Just remember Matt, a computer can never make up for common sense. Fortunately, Grumpy was in a good mood because the pickles were decent. Oh, most of you readers have no idea! A poorly cooked burger or weakly cured pickle and sweet Johnny B. turns into, "I'm not grumpy; just particular." |
CT Bears settle in for lunch. Chris,
Russ and Hawk. |
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As Herman�s Hermits said, �Second verse, same as the first.� This Sunday�s ride will look very much the same as last week�s. Oh we end up at a different restaurant. But the distance and time, 100 miles/2 hours are the same and the general location, mid-Jersey is the same. It probably makes sense to go down the NJ Turnpike, so my guess is we should take our infamous Parkways to the GW Bridge. John H. if you�re joining us; that means the Hutch �services� as they�re called in the Queen�s English.
Right now the weather forecast oscillates between mostly cloudy to a chance of showers for this Sunday. I plan to ride unless it is pouring rain in the morning or � more importantly � if the late day forecast is any chance of ice or mixed precipitation. Right now it looks like we should make it home before as much as a foot of snow falls Sunday night.
Departure time is 9:30 a.m.; Dunkin' Donuts, I-95, Exit 30 in Stratford, corner of Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd. Bernie will probably show up with another half-dozen new recruits. There is always room for one more bike. Join us! |
CT bears arrive. Johnny B. in
background setting up the group shot, once Al, foreground arrived after
gassing up! Also shown are Ken, center left, John K. in captain's hat
center right and Russ next to him. |
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North Brunswick Township, NJ; January 13, 2024
Week 12 Bears: from
left, Chris, your blogger, Capt. John K., Russ, Douglas Colfer, John H.
and Ken. |
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| morning 31۫
afternoon 44۫ brilliant sun in the morning, building clouds in the
afternoon. What a great way to enjoy the calm before the storm! Great Polar Bear weather, a reasonably close destination, good food and fun friends all came together for a near perfect Polar Bear day. John K. pretty much made the blog happen this week. Without his extraordinary efforts I would have a lot less to write about. He offered me the lead this Sunday. I was prepared. I had printed out my MapQuest directions. I even went back and reviewed last year's blog for this destination. Yup! This was the ride I led last year and very nearly repeated a mistake from the year before. As we come off the NJ Turnpike, you have to take Route 18 North to go South on Route 1. Last year I stopped our bikes on the apron centered between the north/south exit options to confer with my GPS enabled riding buddies. The year before that I followed my intuition, incorrectly, to take Route 18 South. So I had a pretty good idea where we were going. But it is tough for me to remember more than three turns or route numbers in a row. Typically I write a few pointers in grease pencil on my mirror. This Sunday I had not. So when John K. offered me the lead I deferred it back to him. Good thing that I did. Me, I would have led a boring ride. John K. and his GPS offered us a bona fide adventure. Maybe he had a premonition. He was leading in the morning with great vigor. If John K. was a horse, you would have said he had too much grain in his feed this morning. |
Ken's bike made the Polar Bear
web site photos, (see below) and:
http://www.polarbeargrandtour.com/sj08.htm
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| Keeping up with John K., Russ and I rode the multi parkway on and off
ramps like we were wearing knee sliders. I tried to keep tight to John K., riding directly behind him., but John K. was setting a pretty good pace. Russ always rides tight with riders he trusts. And I guess after all the miles we have done together, he trusts me a whole lot because Russ was right up my butt; in the corners he came up even closer. Sandwiched, I could not have backed off if I wanted to. I leaned in harder, twisted the wick a bit tighter, even scraped the floorboards a few times. Good stuff! Poor Kenny, who eschews leaning, dropped way back in the corners then had to make it up on the straights. When we picked up John H. at the Hutch Parkway "services" as our British friend calls them, John K. barely slowed to allow him to catch us as we blew by. |
John H., left in yellow and black,
signs in with Dave. |
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| Fortunately John H. was ready for us. He was sitting
near the on ramp, fully suited, engine running at about 3,000 rpm, back
tire spinning and smoking. As we approached he backed off the clutch
just a bit, his tire grabbed pavement, and John H. shot out to join us
with a reaction time any drag racer would admire. As I glanced in my rearview mirror, noting John H.'s dedication in trying to catch us, I gasped. My God, he's pitching forward over the handlebars! Then I remembered he rides that Honda ST thing with his head forward and feet tucked back and he always looks like he's about to take a header over the "windscreen," windshield to you and me. I give John H. a lot of credit. He rides all day crunched in an impossible "Z" with his feet back, knees forward, ass pushed back and head pitched forward. Those Europeans are so eccentric! |
Chris and Russ riding buddies at Sir
John's. |
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| Me, I like to move around on my bike. I sit up straight, slouch back,
put my feet up, drop them back down on the floorboards, slide my ass
forward, then back, arch my back, then flatten it, and that's all in the
first half-hour. I can do a lot of miles, have done an Iron Butt, so
long as I can move. But I promised you an adventure this week delivered by our own Captain John Kammerer. He too was fooled by the complex Route 18 North to Route 1 South transition just off the Turnpike. Only it was Route 1 that got John K. As he approached the critical decision point, his GPS was busy, baking cookies or downloading a song or some such nonsense. It wasn't on the job. It was "recalculating." And John K. is nearly completely GPS reliant. Rather than rely upon his sense of direction (that sense that led me to try to head south off the turnpike, instead of the counterintuitive north first on 18 to go south on 1 as desired), John K. turned north on Route 1. Why? Who knows? It was a fifty-fifty shot. He guessed wrong. Of course correcting course is not so easy in New Jersey which years ago declared all left turns anathemas. Amazingly John K. ignored the clear signs offering a "U" turn farther ahead and instead followed his GPS into a residential neighborhood, blithely continuing on past the "NO OUTLET" sign to a physical dead end before looking up from the tiny screen and admitting defeat. As we cranked around in a very tight street I glanced to my right. The sign on the cross street said "Easy." Wow, what irony! A U-turn on Easy Street. That's downright philosophical. |
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| We got back on Route 1 North, where we had
exited it, and a little further on we were offered and John K. accepted,
a U-turn opportunity. Even then it was the most convoluted U-turn I have
ever seen. We did two or three of those infamous Jersey jug handles,
followed the signs down a couple back alleys and finally made it onto
Route 1 South. From there it was easy to Sir John's. John K. was up for his 60 point pin on this ride. Rich and Dave played him well. John K. started out to give them a hard time about how they had better not be out of 60 point pins. Rich feigned surprise. Dave just smiled. When John K. found his page in the Flight B log book his 60 point pin was already taped in place next to the day's entry. We had a great lunch. Remembering from last year, nobody ordered the chicken sandwich, which is really a chicken salad sandwich. |
John K. signs in. Note the 60 point
pin pre-affixed |
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| Johnny B., Grumpy, was the one most offended
by the chicken salad misdirection the past two years. Unfortunately he
was home this Sunday, suffering with a very bad cold. Matthew found us and joined us for a soda. It sounds like he lives so close he could have walked here, but brought the bike 'cause it wouldn't be cool to show up on foot. Matt pointed out that there are even more of those neon lime green yellow jackets showing up (see last week's blog). Darned if he wasn't right; there were half a dozen in the parking lot as we were leaving. My worry is once enough of us motorcyclists are wearing these obnoxiously bright jackets, car drivers will start ignoring them. Then the chemists will start working on a new, even more noticeable, color. Remember "International Orange?" Now we have Hi-Viz Yellow. Next? |
Matt and his super bright jacket. |
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I offered you a John K. Odyssey at the opening of this blog. And John K. delivered it on the ride home. So if you are not tired of reading, here is some more fun. On the ride home, we planned to take the Garden State Parkway. For us, passing by New York City is the only way to get to and from most Polar Bear runs coming out of Connecticut. Typically that includes crossing either the George Washington or Tappan Zee Bridge. On the way down, it being morning, we often risk the GW. But the ride home is always better traffic-wise over the Tappan Zee. It has become a tradition, in the way traditions creep into one's life, to stop at the top of the Garden State Parkway rest stop for a coffee and to top off our gas tanks with some cheap NJ gasoline. So John K. figured to go back on the Garden State Parkway. We were all fine with that. Except we did not know that John K. had no idea where the GSP lay.I blame his GPS. When you look at a map only a few inches at a time, you lose the ability to see the overall picture. Sense of direction goes out the window. Here's the part that will have our New Jersey blog readers laughing uncontrollably. John K. decided to ignore the big NJ Turnpike sign and instead took off after one of those little green Garden State Parkway signs. |
John K. had Garden State Parkway on
his mind |
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| Anyone native to New Jersey knows that when
they finished the GSP in 1955 the state authority that built the
eventual 173 mile road dispatched its minions far and wide across the
state putting up those little green signs to lure tourists onto the toll
way. The locals wanted the rubes off their roads, and in the meantime if Jerseyites could pick up a few bucks, well, what was the harm really? After all, traffic is one of New Jersey's most precious resources. Think I am kidding? According to the International Bridge, Tunnel and Turnpike Association, the Garden State Parkway is the nation's busiest toll road. The Turnpike ranks number five in volume. Along with the Atlantic City Expressway, all three roads carried 748 million vehicles in 2006. Now New Jersey Governor Corzine proposed mining this unnatural resource to pay the state's debt. (New Jersey is the country's fourth-most indebted state.) Just recently he proposed increasing tolls by 50 percent in 2010, then again in 2014, and again in 2018 and once more in 2022. Plus he will heap "inflation adjustments" on top of his logarithmic madness. In 10 years the average toll would go from $1.20 to $5.85 on the turnpike; 35 cents to $1.60 on the Parkway. Corzine estimates his plan will earn up to $38 billion, yes billion. |
The common sense route from Sir John's
to the Garden State Parkway is highlighted in black. |
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| An analyst from Moody's Investment Service
praised Corzine's plan as, "the largest and most ambitious leverage of a
toll road asset in the U.S. so far," according to an Associated Press
Story. So now you begin to understand why just about any road within 100 miles of the GSP has those little signs directing you toward it. When I lived in Hightstown, my driveway had one of those little signs. If I have any Delaware residents (my home state) reading this blog, GSP signs are like those little "follow the gulls" signs littering the southern Delaware landscape. The gulls purport to helpfully lead you to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. They bring you from virtually any road in the state and then sucker you onto the $12 toll route instead of taking the free Interstate 95 to reach the same points south. Similarly, if the early Garden State Parkway commission had its way, ALL roads in Jersey lead to the Parkway. We were a mere two Turnpike exits from connecting with the Garden State when we left Sir John's. Knowing Jersey pretty well, I could see the map in my mind; that big "X" just north of us where Turnpike and Parkway cross. John K. was looking only at the little GSP signs and trusting his GPS to do the rest. And sure enough, those little signs did in fact lead us to the Parkway, by way of Old Bridge. Even when we go to Old Bridge for our Polar Bear ride and banquet, and even when we want to go home on the Parkway, we still first head north on the Turnpike. By the way I had this very same argument with the similarly GPS disabled Grumpy on the way home from the VFW ride this very winter. If you guys now look at the bigger picture, clearly demonstrated by the map above, you can see why the Turnpike is oftentimes the fastest way to the Parkway. We turned east onto some Podunk local side road after being a stone's throw from the Old Bridge VFW. John K. probably recognized where we were but was not about to give up on his little GSP sign quest now. He even stole one of MY trademark moves. Somehow, someway, John K. found a way to mess with Russ' vaunted $5,000 worth of chrome accessories. Usually I find Russ a dirt road to ride no matter how much asphalt surrounds us. John K. could not pull off my trick exactly. But he did find a really big puddle surrounded by about two tons of salt. When I saw the big caution sign "ROAD FLODDED" I just started laughing inside my helmet. As we pulled up to our 50th red light I flipped up my visor and offered John a bit of helpful, albeit practical, navigation advice. "When you see the ocean, turn left!" I shouted. And by golly he did as we finally reached the tidal marshes that mark the eastern edge of New Jersey and thereby the Garden State Parkway. Hey, it was a beautiful day for a ride. We all had a very good laugh at John K.'s expense. And I got a few more wonderful paragraphs for the blog. When we finally stopped at "Chez GSP" at the top of the Parkway, I presented John with a low-tech, two-dimensional, hand-held, navigational device: an official New Jersey state map! If you are one of our blog's more faithful readers, you will know that John K.'s naval service had a profound effect on his life. To this day he decorates his Harley, helmet, jacket and vest with symbols of homage to his few short years in the submarine service. He has told us many times that his job on the submarine was that of Quartermaster. He further claims this means he was a navigator. Now I did not serve in the military. But I have read enough books to know that an Army marches on its "stomach" and a Quartermaster in the Army makes sure the troops have enough to eat. If in fact John K. really was a navigator in the Navy, we figured out why he leads us so far astray on our motorcycles. It's the land, the signs, the features, the sky, landmarks, horizons, that are throwing him off. As one of our fellow CT Bears said, "If we blindfolded John, he would have brought us here by the straightest course." Even so, by any route, John K. and his GPS always get us there and back. And what fun is efficiency? As Russ says, "I would follow Kammerer anywhere, even up a tree!" Here's a comment from blog reader Douglas Colfer who met up with us in New Brunswick: Sunday morning as we pulled into the parking lot at Sir John's, Douglas Colfer came striding over to say hi. He has been reading the blog almost since I started it last year. Every now and then he writes a fun e-mail with his own thoughts on our adventures.This Sunday the weather was warm enough and Sir John's was close enough to his home that he rode over to check it out. It was great to meet him in person. He is a whole LOT taller in person than in his photos. We exchanged a few pleasantries then he was off to feed deer carrots. Well that's what he said. Ah Chris, What a pleasant day for a ride and to finally have a chance to meet the crew of the CT Bears. Since being so close to home "Margaret," aka the camera girl, decided we would head out for a nice Sunday ride for a bit. It was then I realized that the Polar Bear destination was a mere 15 minutes away from the house so we decided to cruise on over to visit. Had we not had breakfast, we most certainly would have liked to join your group for lunch. Well Chris, I would like to say it was truly a pleasure to meet all you guys and finally attach the names to the faces in real time. Here was funny little tid-bit I'll share, as we pulled in early to Sir Johns around 11am there were a few bikes there but no CT Bears yet. While we waited I explained to her :::: {Margaret }::: you remember the camera girl,,, the story behind the Blog and so forth. Well after the lot began to fill up, and a good 45 min waiting Margaret say's maybe they are not coming today. I answered, oh they'll be here, they probably took a wrong turn, lol... Then low and behold, here comes John K, distinguished by the proud Patriot Guard banner that I have seen in so many pictures pulling in. I found it ironic that with the lot almost full of bikes, John K just happened to slowly back his ride right in next my Classic which I thought was kind of weird in a sense. After we left Margaret ,, {aka the camera girl} ,,LMAO... and I did in fact head over to the county park to feed the deer some carrots, but not before a nice stop at the local DD for a fresh brewed Hazelnut. Well Chris in the essence of time, I need to get my crew here at work going, so again its was our pleasure to be able to shake hands and exchange hellos to the CT Bears, hopefully soon we will again hook up and share a burger and some stories. So goes life on Easy St.. Till then be well and I am glad you all arrived back home safe and sound. PS. Fellow CT Bears, as I look ahead on Tuesday to our next ride on the upcoming Sunday, I am more intrigued by the weather forecast than the MapQuest one. MapQuest predicts 2 hours and 40 minutes, 144 miles, one way. Of course MapQuest just loves the Cross Bronx Expressway, which is generally a death sentence on a motorcycle. So with our alternate route, we might just squeak that distance to 150 miles one way, which garners a whole 'nother point. Given the distance involved, we had better leave at 9:00 a.m. I hate to leave a moment earlier because of the second forecast. Right now the weatherman predicts a low temperature in the single digits Saturday night and a "high" in the teens during the day Sunday. Every moment of sunshine Sunday morning will be most welcome. It will be the first truly cold test of our Polar Bear layering abilities this season. I think I will take the lead next Sunday. Sorry John K., but I want to shoot straight down the Turnpike to exit 5. It will be just too darn cold for detours. Sorry Johnny B., but I want to take a warm-up coffee stop on the way down. It will be just too darn cold for a marathon, no-stop, gut-it-out ride. See you Sunday! |
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| Doug Colfer responds
to last week's blog (above):
Hey Chris,
Why am I and many others so hooked on this
blog? Even as I sit here at home today nursing a strained back I
just had to connect in to read the continuation saga from yesterdays
entry. OMG, when I read that I was almost in tears laughing about
the return excursion. In my opinion, since John K had spent so much
time under and around the ocean, by golly he is drawn to the sea
even when on land, lol.. Given the fact that you were so close to
the GSP by way of NJTP from exit 9 where you got off, just a short
cruise to exit 11 going north would have kept you well away from the
water. I now know why we read these pages, nothing there is no
fiction in the world that can compete with these real stories of the
CT Polar Bears. Again Chris, it was truly my pleasure to meet you
and the gang. thanks for continuing this blog for all of us faithful
readers.
Doug
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Medford, NJ; January 20, 2024
Week 13 Bears, from
left: Johnny B., John K., Chris (your blogger), John H., Ken, Bernie and
Nancy. |
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| morning
24۫
afternoon 20۫ brilliant sun with a few clouds This week, Chris, your blogger, led the ride. Absolutely everything went perfectly. So there really is nothing to say in this week's blog and certainly no one of whom we can make fun or tease. Scroll down for the photos.
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John Howard, left, gives Chris' ride |
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Oh, okay, I guess I can find something to write about. For one thing, it was disappointingly warm. Warm? Did I say WARM? Well yes I did. Here's what I mean. If you listened to the weathermen mid-week last week, they were predicting single-digit cold in the morning with a high only in the teens during the day. It actually turned out 10 degrees warmer on Sunday. Riding in single digit temperatures gives you something to brag about. Rightfully so. However riding in just 20 something degree weather is just cold, damn cold. You can't really puff out your chest over 20 degree cold. Oh, it was cold, nearly painfully so. Even still, it was not "hero" cold. It was just "hurtful" cold. |
John K., left, and Chris, right, begin
to |
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| If you have not ridden in such conditions, it
will not make sense to you when I say the coldest we were is when we
were off the bikes. On the motorcycles at speed, properly layered, electric clothing pulling full power, twenty-something cold is really not insurmountable. I was colder putting on my layers in the parking lot ― fingers freezing as I labored with Velcro, zippers and snaps ― than when I was cruising along. Electric clothing really is a wonderful thing for winter riding. Johnny B. made a quick stop at a rest stop soon after we started in order to plug in his vest. He has been having some trouble with his multiple connections and re-configured the plugs and wires. In all the reengineering, he missed plugging in the vest. Grumpy rides with a full suit, jacket, gloves, pants and socks all running off his alternator. |
John H. heads into our destination. |
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| Not that electrics are required. John K. uses
none. Bob Hartpence, who truly is a polar bear and comfortable at temperatures far below human tolerance, told us a good story about his electric vest. He bought an early BMW model heated vest from Rich, who used to have a cycle shop. Bob took the vest home, wired it up to his bike and took a turn around the block. "Yep, it works just fine," he thought at the time. Then he put the vest in his closet waiting for a cold enough day. Bob told us Sunday the vest has been in the closet for twenty-some years now. He rode to our destination Sunday in jeans, you know, non-windproof, regular old denim blue jeans. No chaps. When I gave my incredulous response, Bob said, "Well I have my nylon riding pants in the saddle bags today, just in case it gets too cold." |
Bob Hartpence, left, and a fellow
Polar Bear, each in their respective cold weather riding gear. |
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| We have a guy like Bob in our HOG club. Scott
and I were on a ride to Fall River, Mass. a few Septembers back.
Temperatures were in the forties. I was layered up in long johns, nylon
wind blocking riding pants, electric jacket liner under my leather
jacket and my electric gloves. Scott showed up with regular jeans, tee
shirt and a light wind breaker. He took the jacket off halfway
through the trip. Speaking of that fearsome cold predicted for Sunday, if you remember the opening of the week earlier blog, I said, "what a great way to spend the calm before the storm." Only the "storm," a predicted "classic Nor'easter," never arrived. Confident predictions of up to 12 inches of snow were quickly adjusted downwards. We ended up with 0 inches. Our local weathermen, yours too no doubt, all engage in this folly. And who is more foolish? Them, or those of us who believe them? |
News 8 "precision" weathermen. |
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| How these guys can deliver conjecture with
conviction day after day is beyond me. News 8, shown in the graphic, offers "precision micro cast." Geoff Fox, the guy in the inset, will deliver an exacting, hour-by-hour, town-by-town weather prediction at 11:15 p.m. each evening, only to be proven wrong again and again the next day. Yet he soldiers on, undaunted by his lack of accuracy. So it turned out there really was no need for me to lead our group as I did this week. If you read the end of last week's blog I was worried about John K. taking us on GPS enabled detours or Grumpy gutting it out with a straight-through ride, frostbite be damned. I did make the promised stop on the turnpike. We did not need a warm up after all. Everyone was warm enough. Bernie, who John K. noted brings someone new with him on every Polar Bear ride, drove down in his truck, his wife Nancy by his side. |
Bernie gestures, "What cold?" during a
brief |
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| Since the ride was so well managed, perhaps I
should write about the food. We opted for the downstairs buffet. It was absolutely excellent. However we all chipped in five bucks more than we expected to pay for the privilege. There was some confusion about whether tax and gratuity were included. Best as I could understand it, upstairs they were included, downstairs they were not. My policy in this blog is never to criticize the efforts of our Polar Bear organizers. They do so very much for us. All those books, points, finding and vetting weekly venues, are done for our enjoyment by volunteers. Such an extraordinary effort by our PB organizers and such a wonderful breakfast by the Flying W, was worth the surprise fiveski. Granted, a $25 breakfast buffet is pricey. |
Still life of my breakfast, first
round, at the Flying W. |
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| But for your admission price you got all
manner of breakfast food, a chef-tended omelet station, salmon and
shrimp table, fruit galore, a chocolate fountain, dessert tray, lunch
food and all accompanied by a pianist playing popular show tunes. As a bonus we got to embarrass a teenager. Some young girl at the table cattycorner from us had a birthday. And when her family and the restaurant waiter started singing, our seven Polar Bears chimed in. We stumbled over the name part of the song, "Happy birthday dear whatsyourname . . ." but recovered with gusto for the ending, "Happy birthday to yoooou!" and joined in for the applause. She was mortified. Speaking of great buffets, next week our destination is Club Dix at the Fort Dix army base. I checked with John H. and he claims (his accent to the contrary) that he is a U.S. citizen. So we should be able to get in with no troubles. Hopefully the Army has gotten over his countrymen burning our Capital Building a few years back. |
Johns K. and H. eagerly await their
made-to-order eggs. |
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| Security requirements over the various years
of Polar Bear rides to this destination have ranged from showing your
license, to checking your name against a pre-approved list of bears to a
simple wave-through. So please be sure to bring appropriate photo ID next Sunday if you plan to join us ― that includes passengers who may not otherwise be carrying their drivers' licenses. Club Dix also puts out a wonderful buffet, chef tended as well, in their very impressive dining room. I do not recall the cost, but I believe it is under $20. Fort Dix is famous as boot camp to many a soldier through the years. It also is the non-optional residence of several Connecticut politicians. Our disgraced former governor John "buy me a hot tub" Rowland is back home now. However disgraced Bridgeport state senator Ernie "I am a Moses to my people" Newton is still visiting. Don't know if he will be waiting on us Sunday or washing dishes. Maybe we should let him know some of his neighbors are visiting. John K. paid untold amounts of Bridgeport taxes over the years. With the distance involved, we had better depart again at 9:00 a.m., same meeting place, the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, Interstate 95, Exit 30, corner of Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd. Right now the prediction is for sunny, high temperature of 42, with a chance of snow after midnight. |
John H. earned his Polar Bear patch on
this ride. |
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| Of course you know what I think of
predictions. Speaking of predictions, I have been writing the blog tonight, Monday, in front of the History Channel. What wonderful watching! First up was a feature named "Decoding the Past." It outlines how many different sources like the Oracle of Delphi, the Aztec calendar, Merlin, the I Ch'ing and the Internet all predict the end of the world on December 21, 2012. This was followed by the delightful documentary, "Life After People." So if you have been waiting to join us for a Polar Bear ride, better not hesitate. We have less than four years left of life on earth. Boy is that gonna suck! Just as my wonderful, straight-A student daughter graduates from college ― an effort in which I will invest somewhere right around $100 grand ― the world goes poof! Enjoy every day and ride whenever you can. See you Sunday. Meanwhile, NJ Polar Bear Michael Sparandera from Ocean Thunder HOG caught me in Medford this week. "You remember writing about the guy in the parking lot who called you crusty?" he asked. "I have a story like that." Here is what he e-mailed: |
Chocolate fountain proved everything
is better this way. |
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|
Hey Chris, It was good to see you and the CT crew down at the Flying W airport today. I have to tell you a quick story that happened today as I was on my way to meet the guys and girls of the Ocean Thunder HOG chapter. I stopped in a gas station to fuel up and next to me was a pickup truck with Florida plates. The driver rolled down the window and said, "Are you really going to ride that thing in this 20 degree weather?" I told him yes I am. He then said " Damn it man, you�re a gritty SOB!" He turned to the gas attendant and said, "That man is gritty right thar." As I rode away I was thinking being gritty in 20 degree weather is one thing, being cold is another, so I turned my Gerbings up to "broil" See ya next week. |
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|
Fort Dix, NJ; January 27, 2024
Week 14 Bears
reporting, from left: John, John, John and Chris, your blogger. |
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| morning
30۫
afternoon 40۫ full clouds, then sun and finally a snow squall The only snow we fear is snow itself. So although the forecast was gloomy and the sky more so, we know well enough not to trust the weatherman. Earlier this year, Johns B. and K. drove their car out to the Poconos when they could have ridden just as well. So we rode to Fort Dix under threat of snow showers. And we found the sun, shining brightly, over New Jersey. It was a little dicey in Westchester County, N.Y. As we came off of Interstate 287 to take the multi-parkway route to the George Washington Bridge, the roads were wet. Salt trucks were hitting the off ramps. A bit of snow was piled next to the highway and coated nearby lawns. As we pulled off to meet our fourth John, H., he was not at our usual meeting point. |
Clouds were breaking up as we arrived
at the fort. |
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| I looked down the road leading to our exit
ramp and it was snow covered. I e-mailed H. Monday, suspecting he did in
fact have snow to fear. He was a s'no show Sunday. John H. responded with the prudent observation that, "it only takes one spot to ruin the day." He awoke Sunday morning as snow began falling in his part of the world. Down by the warmth of Long Island Sound we had no snow. Only about one-eighth-inch coated his driveway, John H. figured he could manage his way out onto the public roads. He ventured out only to find his local roads were also snow covered and sanded. By 10:30 a.m. the sun arrived in Ridgefield and the roads cleared. John H. reported, "I briefly toyed with the idea of riding down solo. But where is the fun in that unless it is in a total rainstorm? A la Sweetwater as you know!" |
Clouds were reappearing as we posed in |
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| H. rightly observed that there is still plenty
of Polar Bear season remaining. We hope to see him next Sunday. For us, just that touch more south of John H., our road was merely wet. So we tippy-toed around the on-ramp and started our Yonkers-Bronx parkway weave. Soon the roads were dry again, at least in the center travel lane. That may have been courtesy of the four wheelers, though traffic was mostly light. As we rolled down the New Jersey Turnpike, the sun began to appear and strengthened every mile. With the sun came warmth, at least it seemed so. Even an illusion of warmth is welcome on winter rides. Clouds depress the spirit. Sun lifts it. Maybe that's warmth's source. |
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| Or perhaps it's because we're typically
dressed all in black and really are reaping some solar benefit. Whether psychological or physical as the weather improved we dialed down the electrics and rode comfortably in the zone, our bubble of traffic largely unbroken. Johnny B. led. Two Johns fell in behind him. I was sweep. Johnny B., as it turned out, had a thing or two to teach me. First he led a very smooth ride at a more relaxed pace than the one I set last week. And I think that was better. He even threw in a rest stop just after the Turnpike merge. The very stop I wanted to make last week, but could not get us across the sixteen lanes of traffic where the truck and car branches of the turnpike revert back into a single mishmash. |
"If they are not there, you don't own
it." |
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| Johnny B. also revealed for me how a pair of
light electric gloves inside your hippo hands really can be as warm as a
big heavy pair of super insulated gloves. I did not believe it. He even
lent me a couple different pairs of his to try. John B. bought himself a
new pair of next generation Gerbing glove liners from Lenny down at Fort
Dix. Made to keep your hands warm inside your own winter leather gloves,
John finds electric liners warm enough with just the hippo hands. I tried it. I might even be buying it. But I found the first pair of glove liners warmer than the second. The first pair looks like a High School project. Wires are looped back and forth, stitched over a pair of cloth gloves. The second pair were definitely cleaner looking. Wires are hidden in a cloth backing over neoprene palms and fingers. John B. says they are an "interim" version between the first prototypes and the ones he just bought. Neoprene is discomforting over time. And the interim generation gloves did not feel as warm as the first Frankenstein pair. However in their favor, the neoprene gloves did not give me shocks like the Frankenstein gloves. I swear they were leaking voltage into my fingers and the backs of my hands. Every now and then I got a little zap. Now the proud owner of three pairs of Gerbing glove liners, John B. is looking to sell one pair to me. But as is the case with most product development, the liners keep getting better with each new generation. The newest pair that John just bought use Gerbing's microwire system, a far cry from the cloth and tacked-on fat wires in the prototype liners. The tiny slivers of steel that convert electricity into heat are imbedded in light leather. The jury's still out. I am convinced the glove liners in hippo hands is a great idea. You can wear comfortable lightweight gloves that don't feel like trying to ride in catcher's mitts. But I covet John's newest glove liners. I need to put a few more miles on his interim generation glove liners. Maybe John will rent them to me for a ride or two! Or maybe I can rent with an option to buy. Even if they're warmer, the Frankenstein glove liners are just too ugly. John B. was even farther in left field when he tried to teach us one more thing. He tried to teach us motorcycle colors. John K. went to tease John J. about riding a "purple" motorcycle. Unexpectedly, B. vociferously jumped to J.'s defense. It seems B. had a purple Harley himself at one time . . . uh, I mean a cobalt blue Harley. Well I was thinking like K. that J.'s bike was looking pretty purple. That is until we came upon a Honda while walking through the parking lot toward our brunch. Yep. Those Honda guys. Now THEY do purple proud. Here are the two bikes, un-retouched photos, You decide. Purple or "cobalt blue"? |
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| Whatever your choice, Johnny B. is good
company. He now rides a very sensible silver Road Glide, but says that's
because Road Glides do not come in "cobalt blue." Grumpy earned his patch Sunday. John K. and I turned in blood points from Saturday. We made a run down to West Orange to donate in the Polar Bear club's name. For us it's three extra points. Only you should have seen K.'s eyes go wide when he heard the details of apheresis donation. While recovering from our whole blood donation at the Blood Center of New Jersey we got to chatting with a fellow from Chicago who turned out to be the guy who invented the apheresis machine in use at the Blood Center. Apheresis harvests only the red blood cells from your blood, returning the plasma back to you. The end result is that you can donate every three weeks, instead of every eight with whole blood donation. |
Just arriving we de-layer in a
moderately full parking lot. |
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| So what if it takes like two or three hours to
donate on the apheresis machine? John K. is retired now. He would only
be out riding anyway. Three bonus points every three weeks? Why that would be like making an extra Polar Bear run every month. It would save John from buying that cabin in New Hampshire and riding with Randy just to run up extra points. Watch out Flight Leaders. John K.'s mind is spinning with new possibilities. Me? I'm just hoping to earn that gold patch, what with the weather we've been having this season. Our next ride shaves a half-hour off of this week's jaunt. Plus it has the bonus benefit of keeping us away from New York City and the George Washington Bridge all together. Even MapQuest suggest we go 287 the whole way. |
That's sure to scare off some
tailgaters! |
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| This coming Sunday's ride to Rockaway is just
under two hours and just under 100 miles one way. This is the ride where
we froze our cohoneys off last year. Fortunately this Sunday's forecast
offers more favorable forties. It's Super Bowl Sunday and so John J. was thinking he would skip the ride. But he's come to the Polar Bears late in the game this season and can use the points. Maybe Emily will let him out to play with us if we promise to have him home before kick-off. If you want to come along, meet us at the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, I-95, Exit 30 at the corner of Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd. We leave at 9:30 a.m. Oh, and be sure to check back on the blog Friday or Saturday. I will post a link to the Fort Dix post newspaper. Dave, the base publicist (and a Harley rider) sought out the CT Bears for a story he is writing about the Polar Bear visit. |
Forget olive drab. This place is
gorgeous. |
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| He asked a good question, one I get a lot, but
find hard to answer. "Why do you ride in the winter?" My best response
is that riding motorcycles is like many sensual pleasures. Once you get
them on a regular basis, you feel their absence more acutely. Why give
up the pleasure of riding if all it takes to keep riding is an electric
jacket, gloves, hippo hands, soft lower fairings, snowmobile boots, silk
underwear, long johns, performance fabrics and those little air
activated heated pouches?
|
Two blogging publicists, Chris, left
and Dave, right. |
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| More Polar
Bear Motorcycle Follow Up In his article in the Fort Dix Post, David Moore references our "Connecticut Polar Bear Blog." So I figured I would do a Google search just to see if it showed up. It does, first link. But scrolling around I found a few other items of interest. One is a link to Walter Kern's own Polar Bear Blog on Motorcycle Views at Blog Spot.com: http://motorcycleviews.blogspot.com/2008/01/polar-bear-grand-tour-visits-lake.html. Apparently he mentioned us in his Lake Hopatcong post. |
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| Then I stumbled onto this . . . Apparently the USS Connecticut (SSN-22) Seawolf class submarine encountered a polar bear ― the furry kind ― when the sub surfaced through Arctic ice. Not sure what to make of the "intruder" in his or her territory, the bear gnawed on the ship's rudder for a while. |
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| According to the blog entry:
http://fogonazos.blogspot.com/2006/05/bears-and-submarines.html,
"submariners have seen polar bears in the past, but this is one of the
few times that the bear saw the sub first, and apparently mistook it for
the world's largest chunk of bear food." The blogspot entry also has photos of an encounter between Submarine Honolulu and three bears. But these bears did not try their their teeth on the sub's steel. Shown at right are photos of the Polar Bear Connecticut encounter. I don't know if either of our Connecticut submariners, neither of whom was stationed on the Connecticut, ever encountered Polar Bears on their tours. |
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| Rockaway, NJ; February 3, 2024 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| morning
33۫
afternoon 43۫ sun, sun, sun! Wait! If you did not see the Polar Bear Follow Up tacked onto the end of last week's blog, click the link or scroll up just a bit. It's worth the trip. When you're done, scroll back down to here. I'll wait. Sunday was bee-yew-tee-full! Skies were not cloudy all day. (Neither was a discouraging word heard.) We turned out a very nice crowd of bikes: 11 Harleys and one, uh-hem, Honda. I wonder what John Howard thought as he saw all those big bikes roaring down on him as he waited for us at the bus stop off the I-287 ramp. Maybe he thought, "Oh geeze! Chris will probably make some Honda wisecrack in the blog." |
Yup! That's all our crew and their
bikes, |
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| Walter Kern even posted Johnny B.'s group
photo with the caption that his last high school reunion had fewer
people. He also posted a video of us arriving as a "mini Sturgis."
Here's the link:
http://www.polarbeargrandtour.com/pics.htm then click on "The
Exchange -- Feb. 3, 2008."
There were so many of us, The Exchange did not have a table big enough to seat us family style. Instead we were scattered over several lunch tables. Plus I got served last for lunch. Then at our Chez GSP stop, A bunch of other riders decided to head straight home instead of coming inside for a coffee. All those excuses are to explain away this travesty: I did not get a chance to talk hardly at all to our rookie bears this week. But hey, I am "off duty" on a Sunday ride. |
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| Sure, I write this blog. But I am not too keen
on being a reporter on Sundays. So don't expect interviews or accuracy. Yes I write for a living. Yes I know better. But this blog is writing for recreation. I believe it was Voltaire who said, "Writing is like sex. At first you do it because you love it. Then you do it for a few friends. But eventually you do it for the money." In this space, I can do it for pleasure and on my own terms. |
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| Nancy joined us with her husband Bernie, a
regular, on our Medford, NJ, "Flying W" ride. But Bernie and Nancy came
in a truck. This is her first Polar Bear ride on a bike. We of course welcome all comers. Although I was a bit taken aback at first with Nancy's apparent decision to bring her cat along on the ride. As she was sitting behind Bernie on his big gold Harley, it looked liker her cat had escaped from somewhere inside her jacket and then was trying to climb up on top of her head, I guessed out of some panic at finding itself speeding down the freeway in the cold. I watched amazed as this animal flailed around her head. It turned out to be not a cat but a fox. And despite it's animated appearance at speed, it is not even alive. All the skin is there, from nose to tail including the paws. But the rest of the fox, bones, muscle and guts, is gone. What a great riding decoration! I had at times adorned my Harley with different animal tails: raccoon, fox and coyote. But it never occurred to me to hang the rest of the animal off the bike. You gotta see this thing at speed. Encouraged by a bit of wind, its anatomically preserved parts "come to life." |
Nancy and her amazing helmet cover. |
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| I did not get a chance to examine it up close.
But in its riding configuration, it looks to me like Nancy has the fox
carcass mounted on a spring to the center of her helmet. After I figured out the animal act in my rear view mirror, I settled in for the ride down to Jersey. For us it is a comfortable route. We get to skirt around New York City, an unusual treat for Connecticut Bears. Johnny B. did a good job of managing a line of a dozen bikes. That's no easy task. We probably should have broken the group in two. Kenny did a good job of sweeping, clearing lanes and helping us pass as a group. We have a few annoying cagers cut our line now and then. But all in all it was a pretty smooth ride down and back. Johnny B. did have a moment where his GPS was not fast enough. While waiting for the unit to indicate a left or right turn, Grumpy rode right up the middle. Fortunately no harm was done and Johnny B. recovered to lead us to lunch and home again. |
Nancy makes a fashion statement. |
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| It was a week for pranks, played by GPS
satellites and Polar Bears. John K. has left no stone unturned to earn Polar Bear points. He had hoped to donate blood year round. Then he learned about a new kind of blood donation that lets you donate much more often. But our Polar Bear Grand Tour organizers made a ruling that since the sign-in form developed years ago only had four spaces for blood donations that was the cap. John K. was okay with the ruling; he lives by and for rules. All was well and good. Then Flight B Leader Rich made some wisecrack about John K. maybe could earn more bonus blood points if he brought the blood to Rich. Turns out John K.'s friend Sue works in a hospital lab. |
John K. donates and delivers for blood
points. |
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| Rick didn't remember offering the challenge.
On the other hand, he said it was the kind of thing he would do. He
related another story of making some poor guy ride to a meet in a kilt.
And we've all heard what guys wear under their kilts. Before you get too excited, John and Sue made a mock-up using an actual blood bag filled with colored water. Rich suggested vodka-spiked Jell-O would have been a better choice.
|
Check out the look on Rich's face |
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| Our destination for the next ride is Landslide
Saloon in Pattenburg, NJ. MapQuest pegs it at 130 miles just under 2 1/2
hours. It is pretty much in the same region as our Rockaway ride, except
we drop down one more Interstate. We go south of Route 80 to Route 78
and then head west. Once again we can stick to I-287. So we should set a 9:00 a.m. departure. Usual Dunkin' Donuts, Stratford, CT, Interstate-95, Exit 30, corner of Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd. Make sure to layer up Polar Bears, the forecast high temperature is 35 degrees, and that's after a predicted snowfall Saturday. |
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