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Well, I missed out on BC this year, but had a good weekend riding here in Ohio with Steve and some of his GoldWing group. It was a blast, and contrary to popular belief, some of those GoldWingers can actually scoot pretty good. So Steve and his wife invited me to tag along on thier ride Memorial Day weekend to Elkins, WV for the Ohio GWRRA Rally. I jumped at the chance, for one because I was pretty bummed out about missing BC, and I wanted to put some serious miles on my new-to-me GS1100G.
I was completely amazed about how wonderful and gorgeous the area is, and how many GREAT roads (some of the roads we rode arent even on maps!) there are down there. You want BEAUTIFUL scenary? Check. You want BEAUTIFUL weather? Check. You want great people? Check. A ton of bikes? Check ( i think the count was somewhere in the 60s, and not all GoldWings either!) You want alota miles? Check. I think total I put a lil over 1k miles on this weekend. You want twisties? Double check. My neck is sore from crankin my head thru em....
I spent Thursday preparing my girl for the long trip ahead. Already had the clutch springs changed, carbs synced and balanced. Double checked the fluids, assured my brakes were golden, and washed, waxed, polished and even broke out the touch up paint. Hey, it aint a blingy Goldwing, but my old girl can look damn sexy too.
Friday morning, I was to meet Steve and his wife and son at their place, to head out to meet up with a couple more bikes for the ride down. Steve said he preferred to keep the group smaller, as it would move along much more quickly. I awoke to a phone call. Steve: " You comin?" CRAP! My alarm didnt go off
"Meet us up at St Rt 42 and the 35 on ramp, and we'll head out from there." Ok, so I threw on some clothes, brushed my pearlies, geared up, slapped my tank bag on, threw on my backpack and started some tunes on the Ipod and off I went. I stopped at the gas station to top off the tank, as we wouldnt be stopping for a long while. I shot up 35 as fast as I could without breaking the speedlimit obscenely (tho i would have probably picked up a wreckless op if I had been pulled over!) and got off at the 42 exit. No Steve, at least that I could see. I drove down 42 bout a half mile, and pulled in a "cops nest" and waited. They'd be coming up from that direction, i thought, so I figured maybe they were just slower than I was in getting there. I waited for about 10 mins, and no Steve. So I started her back up and cruised back up 42 to the off ramp, still didnt see any sign of Steve. What I did see was that all of the sudden my tach was no longer working. "Sh1t!" I thought, "this is NOT the way to start out a long trip."
I pulled off to the side of the road and shut her down. I pulled off my gloves and helmet and started looking and the cause of my problem became immediately apparent. The tach cable had somehow come unscrewed from the tach drive. I fiddled with it for a second, and realized that, now that I knew what the problem was, it just wasnt that important at the moment. I needed to get hooked up with Steve and the crew. I started back down 42, and glanced down the on ramp, and there he was, walking up it, waving his arms. I made a quick turn and started down. Once I got down there, I realized it was just he and his son on his Wing, and his wife on her GS850L. "The other bikes have already gone on, but we'll make better time with fewer anyway." So we took off down 35 toward Chillicothe, and on to Gallipolis, where we would cross into WV. It was a bit of a chilly morning, and we were blasting down 35, which is four lane mini-slab. It was a bit boring, to say the least, and I was growing a bit fidgity. Two long hours later, we stopped on the Ohio boarder in Gallipolis to eat lunch, and I was thankfull to get off the bike for a bit. I was simply not used to riding that long a stretch in one sitting. Boy, was I in for it this weekend...lol. After lunch, we crossed over into WV, and took WV 33 all the way to Elkins. It was a gorgeous two lane road, meandering thru the valley inbetween ridges, and at first it had some nice sweepers, tho the road surface left a little to be desired. But I was NOT complaining, it wasnt slab, and that made me happy. We were moving at a pretty good clip, dodging pot holes, rough spots, and occasional road kill and gravel. We passed thru a couple small towns, and then I saw a DQ. Something in the back of my head said we were stopping here. And we were. Some cool off time, and a drink, a smoke for me, and a butt rest were in order. While we were milling about in the parking lot, a few WV troopers of some sort pulled into the lot, and started talking with us about bikes. The one wanted to know how Steve had his trailer rigged up, and they were off in conversation about that. A bit later we were back on the road, and shortly thereafter, we started acending into the Appalacians. We were climbing a ridge here and there, with awesome switch backs, 20mph hairpins and 10% grades. NOW I was having a blast! Steve kept and EXCELLENT pace, somewhere between scraping pegs, and waiting up for his wife on her 850, who was doing an awesome job in the turns, but just didnt have the climbing power Steve and I did. We stopped for gas one last time, then booked it to Elkins. We pulled into the Super 8 around 5:30 or so, having left at 9ish. 300 and some odd miles, a little more than half in some great twisties. When we arrived, there were already a good amount of bikes there, and the MC of the rally, Wayne, had put together a nice dinner in the parking lot there. We ate, everyone caught up, milled around and looked at eachothers bikes. This was a special weekend for Steve. It would be the first time that he, and his three sisters, and all of their husbands would be there with ALL of their bikes (yes, they ALL have bikes.) Everyone chatted some more, there was a riders meeting going over what would go on over the next couple of days. There were over 60 bikes, so they were broken down into 4 groups, each led by a member of the WV GWRRA who knew the area QUITE well. The smaller groupe would be able to move faster, and while we were all going the same places, same routes, they were spaced in leaving about 15 minutes apart. This way, when we needed to stop for gas or lunch or dinner, there wouldnt be 60 bikes and 100 people or more ransacking the local mini mart all at once. After the meeting, pretty much everyone was bushed and headed back to thier rooms. I was crashed out before I knew it. The wake up came wayyy earlier than I was prepared for. More to come...
I was completely amazed about how wonderful and gorgeous the area is, and how many GREAT roads (some of the roads we rode arent even on maps!) there are down there. You want BEAUTIFUL scenary? Check. You want BEAUTIFUL weather? Check. You want great people? Check. A ton of bikes? Check ( i think the count was somewhere in the 60s, and not all GoldWings either!) You want alota miles? Check. I think total I put a lil over 1k miles on this weekend. You want twisties? Double check. My neck is sore from crankin my head thru em....
I spent Thursday preparing my girl for the long trip ahead. Already had the clutch springs changed, carbs synced and balanced. Double checked the fluids, assured my brakes were golden, and washed, waxed, polished and even broke out the touch up paint. Hey, it aint a blingy Goldwing, but my old girl can look damn sexy too.
Friday morning, I was to meet Steve and his wife and son at their place, to head out to meet up with a couple more bikes for the ride down. Steve said he preferred to keep the group smaller, as it would move along much more quickly. I awoke to a phone call. Steve: " You comin?" CRAP! My alarm didnt go off
"Meet us up at St Rt 42 and the 35 on ramp, and we'll head out from there." Ok, so I threw on some clothes, brushed my pearlies, geared up, slapped my tank bag on, threw on my backpack and started some tunes on the Ipod and off I went. I stopped at the gas station to top off the tank, as we wouldnt be stopping for a long while. I shot up 35 as fast as I could without breaking the speedlimit obscenely (tho i would have probably picked up a wreckless op if I had been pulled over!) and got off at the 42 exit. No Steve, at least that I could see. I drove down 42 bout a half mile, and pulled in a "cops nest" and waited. They'd be coming up from that direction, i thought, so I figured maybe they were just slower than I was in getting there. I waited for about 10 mins, and no Steve. So I started her back up and cruised back up 42 to the off ramp, still didnt see any sign of Steve. What I did see was that all of the sudden my tach was no longer working. "Sh1t!" I thought, "this is NOT the way to start out a long trip."I pulled off to the side of the road and shut her down. I pulled off my gloves and helmet and started looking and the cause of my problem became immediately apparent. The tach cable had somehow come unscrewed from the tach drive. I fiddled with it for a second, and realized that, now that I knew what the problem was, it just wasnt that important at the moment. I needed to get hooked up with Steve and the crew. I started back down 42, and glanced down the on ramp, and there he was, walking up it, waving his arms. I made a quick turn and started down. Once I got down there, I realized it was just he and his son on his Wing, and his wife on her GS850L. "The other bikes have already gone on, but we'll make better time with fewer anyway." So we took off down 35 toward Chillicothe, and on to Gallipolis, where we would cross into WV. It was a bit of a chilly morning, and we were blasting down 35, which is four lane mini-slab. It was a bit boring, to say the least, and I was growing a bit fidgity. Two long hours later, we stopped on the Ohio boarder in Gallipolis to eat lunch, and I was thankfull to get off the bike for a bit. I was simply not used to riding that long a stretch in one sitting. Boy, was I in for it this weekend...lol. After lunch, we crossed over into WV, and took WV 33 all the way to Elkins. It was a gorgeous two lane road, meandering thru the valley inbetween ridges, and at first it had some nice sweepers, tho the road surface left a little to be desired. But I was NOT complaining, it wasnt slab, and that made me happy. We were moving at a pretty good clip, dodging pot holes, rough spots, and occasional road kill and gravel. We passed thru a couple small towns, and then I saw a DQ. Something in the back of my head said we were stopping here. And we were. Some cool off time, and a drink, a smoke for me, and a butt rest were in order. While we were milling about in the parking lot, a few WV troopers of some sort pulled into the lot, and started talking with us about bikes. The one wanted to know how Steve had his trailer rigged up, and they were off in conversation about that. A bit later we were back on the road, and shortly thereafter, we started acending into the Appalacians. We were climbing a ridge here and there, with awesome switch backs, 20mph hairpins and 10% grades. NOW I was having a blast! Steve kept and EXCELLENT pace, somewhere between scraping pegs, and waiting up for his wife on her 850, who was doing an awesome job in the turns, but just didnt have the climbing power Steve and I did. We stopped for gas one last time, then booked it to Elkins. We pulled into the Super 8 around 5:30 or so, having left at 9ish. 300 and some odd miles, a little more than half in some great twisties. When we arrived, there were already a good amount of bikes there, and the MC of the rally, Wayne, had put together a nice dinner in the parking lot there. We ate, everyone caught up, milled around and looked at eachothers bikes. This was a special weekend for Steve. It would be the first time that he, and his three sisters, and all of their husbands would be there with ALL of their bikes (yes, they ALL have bikes.) Everyone chatted some more, there was a riders meeting going over what would go on over the next couple of days. There were over 60 bikes, so they were broken down into 4 groups, each led by a member of the WV GWRRA who knew the area QUITE well. The smaller groupe would be able to move faster, and while we were all going the same places, same routes, they were spaced in leaving about 15 minutes apart. This way, when we needed to stop for gas or lunch or dinner, there wouldnt be 60 bikes and 100 people or more ransacking the local mini mart all at once. After the meeting, pretty much everyone was bushed and headed back to thier rooms. I was crashed out before I knew it. The wake up came wayyy earlier than I was prepared for. More to come...
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About 68 miles after i purchased her, she spat out the inner hub gear. Thankfully, Steve was kind enough to lend me the rear off his sons 850G work in progress, as it would be a while before it was road worthy. And, I rather like the Zook star pattern wheel over the more modern one, so I think i will be trading the front wheel to him, and giving him the new rear i picked up recently as well, as he cares not either way which pattern are on the 850. It did take some shimming, but a washer or two did the job nicely, and i havent had a fidget out of it. Actually, aside from the slight ride hight that I lost due to the 130/80 (as opposed to the 130/90 that was on the stock wheel) thats on the borrowed wheel, I have been more than pleased with it.
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