| 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 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. Each week from the end of October to mid-April, we ride to a different destination, mostly in New Jersey. And then I write an e-mail to my fellow riders describing last week's adventures and sharing departure information for the upcoming Sunday ride. |
Me, Chris Loynd, on my |
||
| This 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 usually provide good fodder. There were some pretty
good stories over the past years. But they were written in transient
e-mails now lost. This blog allows me to preserve some great
memories and to share them with my fellow Polar Bear riders, you, and
anyone else in the world. Enjoy! If you're interested in riding with us,
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: |
 Polar Bear Riders from 2004. Full face helmets, plenty of layers and electric clothing keep us toasty. |
||
Rides:
Use your REFRESH button to see the latest entries. |
|
||
| October 29: Cape May, NJ In years past, I've made this a two-day ride. It's a pretty fair distance to ride in the cold in a single day. But this year circumstances jumped up and changed my schedule and I joined five other riders in a one-day excursion. Turned out better that way because Saturday was rainy and windy and horrible riding weather. I would have cancelled the Cape May hotel anyway and ridden Sunday. I felt a bit bad about not going Saturday, because John Bowlan wanted to ride down with me and even took Saturday off from work. |
First to arrive! An hour early! (Photo by John Bowlan.) |
||
| That may not sound like a big thing. But John B. works about 90 hours
a week in rotating 12-hour shifts with mandatory overtime, satisfying our
24/7 thirst for ESPN and the Discovery Channel. John Kammerer was duped by default into taking the lead. He therefore set the departure time: 6:00 a.m. It was in the high 30's, maybe low 40's. Even at speed that's pretty comfortable Polar Bear (PB) weather. Joe had his hippo hands on the bike already. Mine were in the saddle bags just in case. But I never needed them. As we rode south and the sun came up, it warmed us just enough to make for perfect PB weather. Crisp but not punishingly cold. Our crew this Sunday included a half-dozen riders: John Bowlan, Russ Curtis, John Kammerer, Chris Loynd, Carl Malota and Joe Velez. |
Cape May Polar Bears, from left, Joe Velez, John
Kammerer, Carl Malota, Chris Loynd (author) John Bowlan & Russ Curtis. |
||
| We rode straight down with only a gas-and-go stop at 130 miles.
Despite John K's general adherence to traffic laws we made very good time,
too good 'a time. Probably was a good thing John K. was leading anyway,
because we rode past three or four speed traps on the lower Garden State
Parkway (GSP). If John B. led, I would likely be writing this from the
Atlantic County jail. As John K. rode it, Russ never did get a chance to try out his new 6-speed transmission. Nayh, nayh! Well with the quick stop, no traffic and making good time, we arrived a full hour early at the Cape May VFW. We had some new recruits wanting to sign-up and they had no worries. We were first in line. We were there before the PB Flight Leaders and even before Bob Hartpence, the Grand Tour Grand Pooh-Bah himself. |
Warm weather and rumbling motorcycles brought out some of the Cape May winter tourists. (Photo by John Bowlan.) |
||
| Everybody got signed-in and signed-up and we were very ready for
lunch. Except that Carl is too polite. After signing-up in one line
(remember we were FIRST in line), he then got in the
b-a-c-k of the sign-in line to record his PB mileage. Russ brow beat him
back up to the front of the sign-in line and while the rest of us waited
outside, and waited outside, and waited outside, Carl signed-in and
eventually appeared. Our wait wasn't over, however. Our hearts set on lunch at a good Ocean Avenue sports bar, we jumped on the bikes and rode over and were yet again penalized by John K.'s early bird policy. The bar's kitchen wasn't open until noon, another 20 minute wait. Ah well, sometimes it doesn't pay to be early. After all the ribbing he got about the slow ride down, John K. fearlessly led us back up the GSP, and he put a bit more coal in the engine too. |
Polar Bears just began lining the street by the time we
were leaving for lunch. You can see more pictures each week on the Polar
Bear web site:
www.PolarBearGrandTour.com |
||
| Russ finally shifted up that one more time, humming along
at 70 mph and 2,500 rpm. Worth every penny he says. We made pretty good time getting home. Although the speed was faster the pace was more leisurely. Traffic was pretty good most all the way. We stopped for a coffee at the top of the GSP. Then we promptly hurry-up-and-waited to cross the Tappan Zee Bridge. But that's to be expected most every Sunday afternoon in any season. We still got home just a wee bit after sunset. Thanks to John K.'s 6 a.m. departure and the changing clock, and the just-right weather, we were rewarded with a beautiful sunrise and sunset on this crisp, day-long ride. And for those of you who are counting, it's a 6 point ride. If you're interested in the whole points thing, check out the Polar Bear web site or just ask John K. He's figured every possible angle and was even a bit miffed because they wouldn't count his blood points last Sunday. Yes, John has even resorted to selling his blood for PB points. In fact, I intend to join him next time! Next week's destination is the PB "South Pole," Lewes, Delaware. Mapquest says 272 miles one way. That pushes it over the edge into 7-point territory for us Connecticut riders. For those pursuing the PB patch or rocker, these two rides put you close to halfway for the 30 required minimum points. John K. once again is setting the ride. He's leaving at 6:00 a.m. sharp from the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, Honeyspot Rd. and Lordship Blvd., I-95, Exit 30. Russ will ride down Saturday and stay with his brother in the shadow of the Delaware Memorial Bridge. I assume he plans to meet the other riders at the destination. I'll ride down to Wilmington, Del. on Saturday and stay with my folks. Then I have to cut across Maryland early Sunday morning to pick up a "Q" and "K" county for my ABCs of touring contest. So I'll plan to meet you guys at Fisherman's Wharf by noontime. |
|||
| November 5: Lewes, DE That's pronounced "lose" downstate Delaware. It's a great run and our best point ride: 7 big ones! I can comment only by hearsay on the ride down for the rest of the Polar Bears. Personally I rode down Saturday evening to spend the night with my folks in upstate Delaware. Not only did I get some quality time with Mom and Dad, but the closer proximity to Lewes offered a chance to swing over into Maryland for an important Harley Owners Group (HOG) ABCs of touring "Q" county. (It's a HOG thing.) Maryland offers Queen Anne's. Quaint name isn't it? But what do you expect from a state where the official sport is jousting? |
It's a HOG thing . . . |
||
| As I have in years past, I got started later than I planned Saturday. I
had to get some things done for Influential Communications' clients before I could hit the
highway. Maybe leaving late was okay anyway. Crossing Tappan Zee bridge, the superstructure lit up like neon from slanting rays of a late day sun. As I cruised down the Garden State Parkway I was treated to a lovely sunset, reflected off of the smog and jet contrails over the New Jersey Oranges. A bit later a nearly full moon rose over Marcus Hook, Penn., reflecting a silvery, smudgy path on the Delaware River as I crossed the Commodore Barry Bridge. The orb was lovely, silhouetting sparkly lights of oil refinery rigging, accented here and there by the dancing flames of waste gas burners. Sunday morning I started at a more decent hour than my fellow Connecticut Polar Bears. A leisurely breakfast was followed by a comfortable ride. After collecting "Q" and "K" counties, I crossed from Maryland back into Delaware at Dover and proceeded to the beaches. Ah, I miss the Eastern Shore, scenic, beautiful, bucolic, quiet. |
|||
| Gassing up right at the turnoff to Lewes I saw my first group of
bikes. And I'll be darned, those were my bikes! Johnny Bowlan
leading, John Kammerer sweeping, the rest of our merry band, Russ, Joe and
Carl in the center. Traffic being light, I was able to slide out of the gas station, across three lanes, and pull up right behind John K, who for the second week in a row set a departure time that had the group arriving about an hour early. We had breakfast before sign-in opened. John B. wanted lunch, but that menu wasn't available for another 20 minutes. As it turned out, we were served breakfast well after lunch was available. It's a timing thing. Meanwhile the stories were flying about the ride down. Seems there was a bit of confusion as to the actual capacity -- versus imagined capacity -- of a certain Polar Bear's gas tank AND bladder. In the end it all came out okay, some of it on an on-ramp right there on the NJ Turnpike! |
Week 2 Polar Bears, same crew as Week 1. |
||
| Also, one of the PB riders arrived some 15 minutes late. He called
ahead to hold the group. Late is generally forgivable by some of the other
riders. But this poor chap made the mistake of admitting he needed a gas
stop TOO before arriving late. (Next time just gas up around the corner
from the Dunkin' and follow the "don't ask, don't tell" policy.) We had great fun on our departure for the ride home, cruising back up Route 1 in Delaware with at least a quarter-mile of bikes behind us. John B. was truly "leader of the pack." As we left the Lighthouse Restaurant on Fisherman's Wharf in Lewes, another group leader waived us in front of them, holding traffic on the sparsely trafficked main drag so we could exit. |
Sign in for Flight B, our leaders Rich and Dave. |
||
Riding out of Lewes our group was followed by that group, and then perhaps another group. And as I looked through my rearview mirror down the center of the line there were at least a hundred bikes stretching way down the road nearly out of sight. It was a great feeling for a half-hour, but then we stopped for gas and the rest of the pack went roaring on by. Unfortunately there was still more gas tank confusion on the ride home. We were all out of synch since I gassed up in Lewes, but these guys were riding tanks filled north of the Delaware Memorial Bridge. When they needed gas, I was only down a half-gallon, about 20 - 25 miles on my Harley. Ride leader John B. said he'd stop for gas again in another 130 miles, an easy reach for my Springer. And off we went. |
|||
| As we approached a Turnpike service station, across the bottom of a
sign announcing its arrival in two miles, there was another, bright orange,
cautionary banner: "Last Gas for 55 Miles." Now math has never been my specialty. When I was in the fourth grade my family changed school districts. And I went from traditional math to something called "new" math. I have never been the same since. It's probably the reason I became a writer and not a scientist. In my numerically challenged brain I added the 55 miles more to the 130 John B. promised before stopping and came up with a whopping 185 miles. And that's on top of the 25 or so miles already clocked and so casually dismissed back in Delaware by refusing to top off with a measly half-gallon of fuel. |
Suiting up for the ride home. Polar Bear advice, "When you can feel your toes, it's time to go." |
||
| So I did what any rider would do, on the unforgiving NJ Turnpike, in
winter no less. I panicked. I zipped to the front of the line and led the pack off the exit ramp into the service area and up to the gas pumps. At which time they all protested vehemently. And thanks guys, it was so much easier to refigure the math with all those other voices in my head. Anyway, John B. reminded me that he had 25 miles LESS on his odometer and therefore I should have been subtracting when I was adding. As it was I still had a quarter-tank left when we gassed up at the next open rest stop. Oops! My bad! From that final gas stop we opted to shoot straight home. The early evening Tappan Zee traffic jam was more palatable with a now fully full moon rising, first glimpsed through the hills. When we rounded to the broad Hudson it shone forth a path before us, showing us the way home. |
We made the Polar Bear web site with the caption, "Four
bikes from Connecticut." Guess their photographer missed the other two
parked in front of us: |
||
| This Sunday's ride is a short one. John B. has set a 9:00 a.m. departure to Old Bridge, NJ, home to the Polar Bear spring banquet. See you next week! | |||
|
Our bikes among many at Lewes, Del. |
Fish in the wind atop Lighthouse Restaurant. |
||
|
Carl suiting up for the ride home. |
Joe sorting out his wires. |
||
| Back to top. | |||
|
November 12: Old Bridge, NJ "Perfect" leaves no room for compromise. Webster says, "conforming absolutely to the description or definition." Several of the Connecticut Polar Bear (PB) Riders have decided to go for the Perfect Attendance Pin. Not many bears earn one. So few, in fact, they're recognized at the annual North Pole banquet in April. John Bowlan and John Kammerer have decided to go for "perfect" this year. And I figure to give it a run too, but don't tell Cynthia (my wife). This despite last year when Johnny B. asked if I wanted to ride down to Jersey in a snowstorm in his truck to keep his attendance record, I flat out told him I thought he was nuts. He ended up not going. (Sorry John.) So maybe now I'm getting a little crazy too. Well we'll see. It's a long season just started. |
Week 3 Connecticut bears, from left, Ken Morel, John
Kammerer, Chris Loynd (author), Johnny Bowlan. This is in front of the
Knights of Columbus Hall. After dodging rain on the way down, we figured
the shrine might get us home dry. |
||
| Our only other Conn. PB Rider to go for perfect attendance
so far was Clark Makinson. Clark has since passed away. (You can read my
tribute to Clark here.) He was one of the
first to join me Polar Bearing. He enjoyed it immensely. Clark's last
ride, ever, was the PB ride to Schoch's Harley-Davidson. He rode it yellow
from jaundice, a nasty consequence of a recurring cancer. He was from Connecticut, but often stayed in New Jersey to care for his ailing father. He'd drive me crazy each winter week with logistics and leave times and meeting places. More than once we'd be riding along 287 and suddenly there was Clark in my rear view mirror. The first full year, which would be the second year after I started PB, Clark was going for perfect. He was so driven he tried to ride his V-rod down the Garden State Parkway in a snowstorm, while the rest of us were staying home. He had the advantage of leaving from his dad's home in mid-Jersey, but even so, well let's just admit a V-rod is not exactly the best choice for riding in snow. |
Clark Makinson, far right, at Schoch's H-D PB run, |
||
| You had to know Clark. He was a very sparse and
matter-of-fact speaker. So when he called me the next week after his
attempt to tell me of his snowy PB ride, it went something like this:
Clark, "Hi Chris. I tried to ride last
Sunday, but had to turn around." |
Clark and the V-rod on a summer poker run |
||
| Well this year's pursuit of perfect led the two Johns and
I to ride under threat of some serious rain storms last Sunday. Ken Morel,
a fellow Bridgeport HOG decided to join us too, his first PB ride. As we met in the Dunkin' parking lot, John K. offered that he'd checked the National Weather Bureau forecast. Johnny B. checked AccuWeather. Ken said he didn't much worry about rain either way. Me, I checked the Clint Eastwood weather forecast, "You gotta ask yourself just one question, 'Do I feel lucky?' Well do 'ya punk?" Turns out ole Clint was right. We were very lucky. We rode down dry. Skies were darker and lighter, but no rain. The most precipitation we saw on the ride down was a bit of mist and fog upon arriving in Old Bridge. |
Ken grabs a smoke in Old Bridge. Foggy but no rain. |
||
| We nearly got home completely dry too. Finally at
Greenwich on the Merritt we hit a few off and on bouts of precipitation
which at the most generous could be termed "sprinkles." Fully 90 percent
of our time on the Merritt was riding on dry pavement. I can't answer for the other guys, but remarkably for me, the first actual rain drops I saw came just as I got off the bike to unlock the garage door. A minute later it rained pretty hard and steady. No matter. By then I was home, warm and dry. Weather always looks worse from inside. And fear of rain is probably worse than rain itself. Lucky is of course better than unlucky. None of us minded being all suited up for a rain that never arrived. As a bonus, it was unseasonably warm. Mid 60's all day. |
I stretch in the parking
lot as we arrive at the Knights of Columbus, Old Bridge, NJ. |
||
| Maybe it was the luck of submariners. Submariners worry
not about wind or weather or waves, as they glide hundreds of feet below
it all. John K. is a proud Sub Vet, as his license plate and nautically
adorned bike attest. On this ride we were also joined by Chief Morel, that's as in Navy, not Indian. He too has the dolphins insignia on his bike, as well as striking murals of submarines and eagles. (I should also mention on this ride the day after Veteran's Day that John Bowlan is also a Veteran, U.S. Army. He has an insignia on his bike too, but I don't think it's official government issue.) Then again, perhaps we have the hostess at Denny's in Old Bridge to thank. Informing us of a 20-minute wait for a table, we opted instead to head north, relegating lunch to the fast food options of the Garden State Parkway. Those extra minutes saved were the ones that kept us mostly dry. So far the forecast for the upcoming ride looks sunny. I'll check with Clint later in the week. |
I sign my Flight B log. The distance was just over 200
miles for a four-point ride. This makes three of us now with perfect
attendance -- 3 rides. It's a long season so we'll see! |
||
|
My bike in the foreground and Johnny B's in the background. I put the hippo hands on for this ride to stop the rain, not the cold. |
We decided to ditch Denny's and its 20 minute wait. |
||
|
Decorative cabbages brighten up Chez GSP. |
Johnny Bowlan at Chez GSP. |
||
|
So many choices at Chez GSP and John Kammerer |
Chris Loynd, the author, at
Chez Garden State Parkway. |
||
| Addendum: Last week when I wrote the "Prospective Polar Bears" piece at the top of this blog, I wrote that our sometimes companion from New Hampshire, Randy Teftt, rode a Ducati. John Kammerer called me to say he thought Randy was a Moto Guzzi guy. Trusting John's memory for such details better than my own, I changed the description and fired off an e-mail to Randy asking for clarification. Here's his reply:
Chris,
I enjoy getting your e-mails about the
rides. I just haven't been able to make it down there... due to either
schedule, work, other plans and... face it, sometimes I just don't feel
like riding 500 miles in the rain!
My bike is a 2000 Moto Guzzi 'QUOTA'. I
believe there are only about 200 of them in this country. It turned
100,000 miles while I was down in Texas. Here's a quick, funny story
about that...
Fellow Guzzi rider Ken Hand, who lives
in Lindale, Texas, and I were on a ride. My odometer was about to turn
over within the next oh...10 miles or so. Ken said, "...Randy, take
this dirt road, it comes back out onto the road we'll be going back
to my house on". Well, I took that dirt road. It turned into a
field...then, all of a sudden...I realized I had started a STAMPEDE!!!
There were cows and bulls running toward me to my left...and some of
them had LONG HORNS! I was trying to decide... should I 'GAS IT' and get
ahead of them, or slow down and become an easier TARGET! Well, I slowed
down and they went running ahead of me by about fifty feet! PHEUUU!
Anyway, it's good to hear from you.
I'll be down your way sometime.
C.U. later... Randy Tefft
|
|||
| Addendum: If you were on the Fort Dix ride last year, there was a celebration for one of my heroes. Polar Bear Leo Chlebnikow was celebrating his 90th birthday. I've always joked that someday when I can't hold up my Springer, I'll get a sidecar for it so I can keep riding. If I can match Leo's record, I'll be ordering that sidecar sometime into my second century. Leo is still riding Polar Bear, still on two wheels, and with perfect attendance in the 2005/6 season. Leo was recently honored with a full-page article in "Americade Times." At 2006 Americade (www.tourexpo.com) he won the award as the event's oldest rider. The article by Laura Brengleman describes Leo's first bike, an Indian Scout that he bought in 1932 for $5 down and $1 a week, no interest. It also explains that after losing his first wife after 43 years of marriage, Leo's second wife Mildred took her first motorcycle ride at age 65 and rides with him still. The Americade article says Leo currently owns three Hondas: 1972 450CL, 1989 Pacific Coast 800 and 1996 Pacific Coast 800. One of the 800s took a blue ribbon in its class at Americade's 2006 bike show. On January 23, 2006, between the Sir John's and Fort Dix rides, Leo turns 91. We look forward to celebrating with him again. Meanwhile, I've sent an e-mail to Americade asking for permission to "reprint" their article in this space. Thanks Leo for inspiring us youngsters. |
|||
| Pre-Thanksgiving Ride
Notice: There is a ride on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Departure is 9:00 a.m. at the Dunkin' Donuts on Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd. Our ride is to Mignella's Restaurant, which MapQuest lists but will not map. Telephone number reverse lookup offers us the "Hillybilly Hall." That sounds close enough in my book! Based upon the Hillybilly, our ride should be about 135 miles one-way and 2 1/2 hours riding time. If it takes a little longer the worst that can happen is we show up at a Polar Bear restaurant for lunch AFTER the kitchen actually opens. Fortunately too, we can skirt to the west of New York City, hopefully avoiding much of the holiday weekend traffic. Our route is a straight shot over the Tappan Zee, down 287 to Somerville, NJ and then a brief ride in the hicks. Last week we had a nice crew of eight, who enjoyed a relaxing and winter-scenic ride up on Route 84 with light traffic both ways. I was accused of trying to add another silhouette to my tank, the willow trees were spectacular, John K. admits his GPS would have sent him in the opposite direction, John B. lost life for 3 hours, again we had to wait for the buffet to start and John K. unveiled a plan to boost his PB points with a year-round blood letting. Details are in the blog below. |
|||
| Tonight, Thanksgiving Eve, I will have every stitch of
Polar Bear warm gear that I own covering every inch of my body, with hot
packs for my feet and hands and strapped to my belly, in order to sit
outside in a freezing rain to watch the Stratford High School Red Devils
take on the cross-town rival Bunnel Bulldogs in their annual football
showdown. I have been warmer on the bike at 70 mph on a sub-zero day than
when sitting in the bleachers at these football games. As cold as I will
be in the stands, my daughter Annie will be jumping around in her
cheerleader outfit. Go Red Devils! Tomorrow, when I remember my list of things and people for which I am thankful, I will include my fellow PB riders past and present, Harley-Davidson, and those amazing Polar Bear volunteers who put this ride together every week, handle logistics, post web photos, tally-up our points and convene special board meetings to decide how much blood John K. may give. Have a happy Thanksgiving. I hope to see you Sunday! -- Chris |
My daughter Annie cheering, inside. Basketball season is a lot easier on Mom & Dad! |
||
|
November 19: Port Jervis, NY Coming from Connecticut, Port Jervis is one of my favorite PB destinations. It is the only one where New England bears can completely avoid New York City and its traffic. This Sunday we had eight riders, largest so far this year. In fact, with the flicker of cognizant thought that sometimes serves as a memory, I do not believe we have ever had eight Connecticut Bears. Apparently this mania is contagious. We would have had two more on this ride, but Ray had bike issues and Joe got a work offer he couldn't refuse. We had one new rider, Steve. He has all the electric gear but had not yet hooked up the battery connector. He made it just fine, with the loan of some dry chemical hand warmer packs for the ride home. |
Week 4 CT Bears. From left: John K., Ken, Chris (me),
John B., Russ, Steve (first timer), Carl, Raul (first ride this year). |
||
| (Every seasoned PB rider in our crew has some of these
squirreled away on their bike. What if your electrics fail?) I think Steve enjoyed his ride. But he will probably also be installing a battery connection this week for his next foray. He's invested in the electrics. And boy will he be pleased when they kick in next time he's out. There's nothing like the feeling of spinning up that thermostat and feeling warmth flood your jacket and gloves. Raul joined us for the first time this year. He went on one ride with us last year. Which demonstrates our PB attitude. You are welcome to come on one ride or every ride. You do not have to sign up with the Polar Bears to join us. I led the ride this week and with the group's consensus, we took a more scenic route. We rode up Route 110, the river road, to Route 34, sticking with the Housatonic as it slices westward across Fairfield County. Once we got to Danbury we climbed up onto the expressway and rode Route 84 in light traffic both coming and going. |
|||
| Even in winter colors, Connecticut and upstate New York
were really quite lovely. We started out with some very nice river views
and a few corners to enjoy. Then across 84 after entering New York you start climbing into the mountains. Mostly your view is of woodlands and fields and occasional overlooks of a town in a valley below. Particularly striking on this ride were the willow trees. Were they there like that last year? I didn't notice. Or was the timing just perfect this year? With the first day of winter still more than four weeks away, deciduous trees up here have already surrendered their leaves. All except the willows. |
|||
| All along our ride, in every low and wet spot, along every creek or stream, there were explosions of yellow, made all the brighter by the browns and grays around them. Willow trees burst up and rained down like fireworks fountains, bright, sulfurous, yellow. Appreciating the first, my aesthetic eye soon ferreted out many more. They were all along our route. Until, as we turned south on the ride home, the contrast dimmed. Our local willows were still too green. That condition has probably changed even by the time I am writing this. And if you get a chance to ride or drive up Route 34 or Route 8, keep an eye out for bursts of yellow. | |||
| Heading out of Stratford at the very start of our trip,
the guys accused me of trying to add another silhouette to my gas tank.
It's a long and funny story, the consequence of which is a chicken on my
gas tank, as shown at right. On our way out of town with me in the lead, a grackle sitting in the highway was undaunted by our pack of onrushing bikes. In fact he did not move. So I swerved. It was one of those moments where you had no idea which way the critter was going to fly. To my mind I guessed right. A quick counter-steer, we weren't going more than 35 mph, and I deftly piloted the big Springer around the back of the bird. As I looked in my rear view mirror, the little guy hopped off the road. |
|||
| Only Russ, riding directly behind me, might suggest a
better verb is "tumbled." Maybe the poor bird was winged by a car that passed this way before us. I am still sure I missed the bird. But my fellow riders dispute this. Okay, so I did hit a chicken in the road once on the way to Daytona. So maybe a swallow smacked into my shoulder once. And then there was that pheasant that just missed my head and Russ' face, shooting between us with micro seconds to spare. Still, I like birds. As proof, here is a photo of the multiple feeders behind my house. |
|||
| Dodging suicidal grackles and admiring exploding willow
trees notwithstanding, we made it to the Cornucopia in Port Jervis in good
time. Once again we signed in and then waited for lunch. But once they got
it up and running, the buffet was delicious and a bargain at $10 per
person. At lunch Johnny B. had a great story about how a client of his lost one of their cable channels, despite a double backup redundancy that rivals NASA. Apparently his client took all the double backup redundancy and fed it through just one, single switch at their location. When it broke all was for naught. But that's why John is on the job. With 3 hours of frantic routing, he eventually restored the life into a particular channel in time and viewers' estrogen levels returned to normal. John works at a satellite company grabbing signals from space and distributing them to our local area, and conversely taking local signals and shooting them into space, making them available to the world. He stands watch at his consoles to ensure that you and I miss not a minute of our favorite cable or satellite television shows. You can thank Johnny B. this Thanksgiving Day as you watch your favorite football games from all around the country, right there in the comfort of your own home. And if your favorite game is suddenly replaced by a slide that says something about "technical difficulties," here's John's cell phone number: 203-555-1234. Only kidding! |
|||
| Speaking of satellites, John K. tells me as we pull into
the Cornucopia parking lot that his GPS would have routed us in the
opposite direction. Now I admit the first turn off the exit is
counterintuitive. You have to go just a little west on Route 6 to come
back East on Route 209. But that's it. Two turns. It's all pretty clear on
the map. And if that is not obvious, there's a pretty big river on the
border of Port Jervis that you clearly do not want to cross if you want to
stay in New York. We'll have to save John's prowess with the GPS for a more challenging and complex PB destination. That way none of us (including John) will know if the maniacal satellites sent us 'round the long way. So this Sunday's ride may be another non-GPS ride. There are only four turns from 287 to the destination restaurant. That is, if you follow a paper map. |
(Photo by John Bowlan.) |
||
| Meanwhile, John K. also revealed his plan to earn blood
donation points all year round. He may have uncovered a loophole in the
Polar Bear rules. And John's the kind of guy who believes strongly in
following the rules. But with that proclivity comes an exacting reading of
the law. PB rules give you points for donating to a New Jersey blood bank in the name of the club. Plus you get a point for each 100 miles round trip to the blood bank. To their credit, PB leaders include a strong warning about not being too woozy to ride home. John has already donated once, as mentioned in the October 29th blog entry. Now John has figured out that the blood points rule mentions nothing about having to be an "in-season" donation. John's already making plans to donate all summer long. I think he's trying to be the first PB ever to qualify for a patch before the first ride next October. |
Our Flight B leaders at sign in, shown from the outside in by John Bowlan. |
||
| You are welcome to join our growing numbers. And you most
emphatically do NOT have to donate your blood in order to ride with the CT
Polar Bears! Heck, you don't even have to sign up to be a Polar Bear. We have a couple of riders who are just along for the ride. They don't care a whit about PB points or patches or pins. Can you imagine? If you are curious about winter riding or have questions, feel free to contact me. I got an e-mail last week from Brian who was trying to decide if he should buy a BMW now and ride it in the winter. I answered his questions as best I could and also forwarded his e-mail to our CT PB list, hoping some of our other winter riders may offer him additional insights. In his reply, Brian said he is buying a bike and planning to join us on one of our future rides. Brian, if you're reading this, I look forward to meeting you in person. Next week's ride is actually described at the beginning of this blog entry. Departure time is 9:00 a.m. If you would like to be included on our weekly e-mail reminders, just ask: [email protected] |
One of our riders commented that the PB crowd seems smaller this year. My thought is that we are just arriving too darn early. We're signed-in, lunched and on our way home before most riders arrive. (Photo by John Bowlan.) |
||
|
November 26: Hopewell, NJ Warm Day + Polar Bear Destination = BIG CROWD. I ended last week's blog with a photo caption refuting several of our members who think the PB turnout has been low this year. Well we turned out 11 bikes, our biggest ever, from Connecticut. And when we arrived at Hillybilly Hall we had a darned difficult time finding a place to park. The PB web site says more than 400 bikes attended. And bikes were spilling out of the parking lot, down the side roads and into nearby fields. I'm glad I avoided leading us onto the grass, 'cause we heard later that a rider dropped a bike over there. As it was we ended up waaay in the back next to the dumpsters. |
Week 5 CT Bears: Back row, from left: Pat, Raul, Pete, Russ, Joe, Bernie & Shane. Front row, from left: Johnny B., Chris (me), Carl & John K. (Photo by John B.) |
||
| Of our 11, we had some first time Polar Bears, and some
alumni from year's past. I think it was Pete's first PB run. Bernie signed
up, a new Flight B bear. Shane is dating Carl's daughter. I think he
came along so Carl would not make him do more chores around the house.
(Carl confessed he had Shane hanging Christmas lights the day before our
ride.) I can identify with you Shane. I painted a girl's house one High School summer. And my sisters never brought their boyfriends around when leaves needed raking nor snow shoveling. But I did hang new gutters on my parent's house one year, assisted by my sister Valerie's boyfriend. Don't worry Shane. Your small investment now pays off big time if Carl ever becomes your father-in-law. Then you can hit him up for help with house down payments, new car payments, babysitting, etc. "But Dad, don't you remember all that I've done for you? Heck we even went Polar Bearing together!" Pat rode with us two years ago. He was too busy building a new company last year to join us. I guess if the real estate market continues its cooling trend, we might have the pleasure of Pat's company on more PB rides this year. Pat's a good one to have around. His sarcastic humor is fun and quick. Like when the waitress brought his hamburger this week, Pat retorted, "I didn't order the meatloaf!" Riding this week, I (Chris) led the pack with Johns B & K sweeping. It's a bit of a challenge with 11 bikes. We can't just weave in and out of traffic. It's like trying to change lanes with a freight train. It is a long look to find your sweep bike at the back of the line. The two Johns did an excellent job of clearing lanes and beating back tailgaters. Fortunately we made it there in a single group. I didn't lose a single bike at tolls or traffic lights. But I can't make the same claim for the ride home. (More on that later.) |
|||
| On the way down and back I successfully navigated our
merry caravan using a crude but effective navigation device. I actually
got the idea from a photo on the PB web site last year. It works just fine
to remember all the important turns. However I need to make one refinement. In
addition to the basic directions, I need to add relative distances. On the way down the penultimate roadway seemed too long in coming. So I pulled off in a safe place to make sure I had not missed a turn. Before I could whip out my map, our two GPS-enabled riders rushed to my aid, assuring me we had to travel just a bit farther. During lunch our group decided to take the longer ride home, going all the way up Route 87 to Route 84 before turning east. This avoids the Tappan Zee, which we all feared would be jammed on Thanksgiving Sunday. |
Coordinates loaded into my navigation device the night before. |
||
| Our plan worked great too, until we got to Connecticut.
What is it about this state? I mean, I'm not from around here, so maybe I
don't get it. You can travel across the United States, through New York,
Chicago, Washington D.C. avoiding traffic jams the whole way. But boy, as
soon as you approach the CT border, the brake lights come on and the
traffic backs up. More than once I've driven from Wilmington, Del., past
Philadelphia and around NYC only to hit a huge traffic jam in Greenwich,
at 2:00 in the morning no less! What brilliant highway engineer came up with the idea of dumping Route 7 onto Route 84 for a mile or so, and then routing it on northward? That is a guaranteed traffic jam every time as two lanes merge onto 84 from the right, squeeze down to three lanes and then two lanes merge off into a "left exit only." And all the accommodation offered is a caution sign that says, "Weaving Traffic." So we got stuck in stop-and-go approaching the border near Danbury. Immediately our intrepid travelers expressed trepidation. First Raul came shooting up the shoulder with advice of turning off onto Route 7 south. I stood my ground. I was confident that after the Route 7 weave was over, things would open up enough to stick to my original plan of exiting onto Route 34 for a nice ride home. |
|||
| But as it so often happens, as I stood confidently at the
helm, the crew was grumbling. I can identify with Captain Bligh's shock
and dismay when Fletcher Christian announced he was taking the ship! Were
things really so bad? We would have rounded the horn in just a few miles
more. Yea, the crew was having none of it. My XO came roaring up from his sweep position and announced a new route. It's kinda hard to have an orderly discussion with cars swirling around you. The next thing I knew . . . mutiny! John K. pointed his bike 90 degrees to starboard and the entire crew ran for the exit. I meekly followed. Now in unfamiliar waters, I surrendered the lead to John. One thing you can say about GPS riding is you see a lot of scenery. Actually, I was the one who saw a lot of scenery. John K's head was continually bobbing up and down as he tried to match a tiny pixel representation to the real world ahead of him. |
GPS enabled John K. led a mutiny on Route 84 and took
over the lead. He ended up abandoning part of the crew in Bethel. We won't
know until this Sunday how many hands were lost. |
||
| I don't know how many times we circled Danbury before we
got headed south and east. Russ commented that he had never seen Marcus
Dairy from so many different sides before. Dodgingtown was interesting. Never heard of it before. Hattertown was another revelation. If you really want to see the unseen parts of any state, follow John K. and his amazing GPS! As it turned out, John actually had a plan and knew where he was going. However not everyone riding with us had the blind faith to follow him. When John passed up the familiar Route 58 as an option to strike for home, all our guys stuck with him. At least I think they did if they managed to catch up after a gauntlet of traffic lights on Main Street Danbury. But when John abandoned Route 302 just past the well-known Sycamore diner, I think for some it was the last straw. John dove onto Jacklin Road as a short cut back onto 302 a bit south and thence to Hattertown Road, his planned destination. In the back of the pack there was another sub-mutiny, and half our crew stuck to the route they knew. Hope you guys all made it home okay. |
|||
As it turned out, Hattertown Road was a lovely diagonal, eventually coming out at Route 25 in Upper Stepney. Right there we found a Dunkin' Donuts and a chance to regain our composure. Russ and Carl had had enough fun and Shane followed with them as they headed home to dinner. Now down to the two Johns and me, we enjoyed a beverage and reflected on our mini adventure. No one else saw the "Christmas Cow" along Hattertown Road. I thought it was pretty amazing. Dusk wasn't quite done, so there was enough dark to appreciate the cow's lights and enough light to see her adornments. John B. favored me with a raised eyebrow. Surely he saw it from the sweep position? "No," he replied, "A Christmas C-O-W? What are you talking about?" Imagine my vindicated delight when the Hattertown Road Cow, along with a pig and other oddities, made the front page of the Connecticut Post Monday morning. This week's destination is Montgomeryville Cycle Center in Hatfield, PA. Mapquest says 3 hours, 10 minutes; 163 miles. It is a pretty nice ride, a lot like the route from last Sunday. We take Route 287 all the way down to Route 202/206, same as last week. Only instead of heading straight south on 206 we go southwest on 202. For the most part we avoid city traffic, unless we get caught on the Tappan Zee approach in the afternoon. In which case, I now know of a scenic alternate route that avoids stop-and-go traffic and adds only an extra hour or two to our travel time. |
Nobody believed me when I said I saw a "Rudolph Cow" on Hattertown Road. The next morning the story was front page in the Connecticut Post. |
||
With the longer distance, we will set 8:05 a.m. as the departure time from the Dunkin' on Lordship Blvd. and Honeyspot Rd., I-95, Exit 30, in Stratford. This week I think I will stick to the middle of the pack, even if it is only the two Johns and me. Oh, and in all fairness to John K. (who was made to look the "bad guy" in this blog) just remember who is writing this and wanted to shift blame for a traffic jam so he could appear as the "victim." All the same, I agree with Russ who wrote this response e-mail: "John always gets us to our destination but must we go through California every week? Maybe its an old Sub route he knows? I hate to admit it but I would probably follow him up a tree." Thanks John for being a good sport! All comments, suggestions and criticism about this blog are welcome. If you would like to add or change something, or if you want to be included on our weekly e-mail reminders, just ask: [email protected] |
One brief stop to check my map on the way down must have
cost me the crew's confidence. On the way back there was a mutiny! This
Sunday I'm sticking to the middle of the pack! |
||
|
I suppose I should have taken John K's hat as a sign of
an impending breakdown in the chain of command. |
And if the outside of the hat didn't warn me, this unauthorized peek at the inside should have convinced me! |
||
|
Our crew heads into Hopewell. |
The parking lot was packed; this is far in the back. |
||
|
Our group begins de-layering at the destination. |
Oops! Russ noticed the camera. |
||
|
John B. directs the weekly group shot. |
Bernie signs in as a new Flight B Polar Bear. |
||
|
Gassing up for the ride home. |
And we're off to unknown adventure! |
||
| Back to top or Next Ride | |||
