My GS1100G Appalacian Adventure (oh yeah, there's pics!)

[TheCafeKid]

I am planning on getting new tires on the 1100G in the next few days, myself. The back is pretty newish i would think...looks to be anyway, but i want to put the 130/90 back on it. Think im gonna go with RoadRiders. I love em personally. I am stoked at the idea of buying that big beautiful GK from ya, already been exploring the posibilities of a CB/Intercom system on it, as well as GPS. If im gonna have a tourer, might as well go all out :P

[TheCafeKid]

So, does that mean You're going to give this a go?:-D

http://www.thegsresources.com/_forum...=120970&page=2

I would really love to. Just dont know if i can work it out getting that weekend off. Ive already got the RR weekend off. I hope to get the track info from Steve from his GPS on the sunday route that we took, and hopefully some of the others as well. I was gonna toss it over to Don for some advanced scouting info, but it seems as if there are pleanty that know the area pretty well. I will definately see what i can do about getting down there tho, it would be a pleasure to ride those wonderfull roads with you fellas

[TheCafeKid]

OK so on to the finale....

Sunday morning began much the same as Saturday. The sun was bright at 7am, but strained to cut thru a fairly thick, wet haze that hung in the crisp mountain air. I came out first thing and dried off Griff (thats what I named my 1100G, in honour of the GSR who brought her back from near death and then sold her to me) I spent considerable time shining her back up, as today was going to be a good one, I just had a feeling. I rolled the choke lever over to the "sweet spot" and hit the button, hoping to the heavens today was NOT the day the starter clutch finally gave up the ghost, leaving me to bump start it all day long. She turned, the clutch gave that nauseating and all to familiar kick back CLACK sound, but then she rumbled to life. There is NOTHING in the world that gets the blood flowing in the morning like the smell of petrol on the mountain air, and the throaty rumble of a 8v GS litre bike idling happily. It puts a smile on my face every single day. Again I let her idle for a while while I continued to wipe her down. The day was growing warmer by the minute, and it was certainly going to be warmer than the day before. The fog burned off rather quickly this morning, and shortly, she was gleaming in the sunlight, right next to all those merchants of flash known as GoldWings.

Today, the leaders had reversed the order, and as we were in group 3, we would be heading out second. I pulled Griff up to her spot in line, again tailing Bernie and his gorgeous Connie14. I shut her down while we milled about waiting for the call to saddle up. She was in the shade now, and I honestly thought nothing of it. Saddle up came, and I geared up and fired her up again. I threw my leg over her and settled into the comfy seat. It was then I noticed a little white spider crawling across my tank bag. A passing thought ran through my head, recalling spiders being good luck. Funny that...

As we pulled out to the exit of the lot, the organizers had stopped traffic coming one way, just as the day before. But unlike the day before, there was no one stopping it coming from the other direction. We were turning left, and now this group would have to merge with oncoming traffic. My turn came to pull out, and as I did, this big assed SUV came barreling in, trying to merge with the group. This was not good. Pulling thru the median, I wacked open the throttle to avoid him cutting me off. Suddenly the bars went nuts, slapping wildly from side to side. The rear end of the bike did the same, fishtailing from one side then back to the other. In milliseconds a million thoughts ran through my head, the main of which ran along the lines of "This is the makings of a tankslapper, this could be REAL bad REAL quick" but my reaction was purely automated. In an almost muscle memory type action, after many years of wrecking dirt bikes and learning from each one painfully, I chopped the throttle, and relaxed my grip on the bars. They settled down immediately, as did the rear end, and I smoothly reapplied throttle and darted around the back of the offending SUV and caught up with the group. I was cursing myself purfusely for being stupid and jumping on her so hard like that on stone cold tires. I was also partialy, although wrongfully, angry at her too. She'd done SO well all weekend, how could she do that to me? I would have surely been severely hurt, if not killed. She and I were now no longer on speaking terms. I was angry with myself, embarrassed, and angry at her as well. I was also a bit shakey from the event. I tried very hard to shake it off and concentrate on the road ahead of me, but for a good part of the morning ride I was very tentative in the corners. In my head, all I could think of was that the tires were cold, the front was nearly due for a replacement, and Steves words I had overheard earlier in the weekend, to the effect of 90% of problems come in the last 10% of tire life. I flicked the bike back in forth in the straights, in an effort to assure myself the tires were sufficiantly heated by now, but it still hung in the back of my mind, and so *I* hung back a bit. I was thankfull when we pulled into Seneca Rocks for a break so that I could get off, regain my composure, and check the tires, mainly the front, for any sign of something else that may have caused the issue.

It wasnt till a bit later, when again checking the tire, that Steves wife asked me if I was having a problem. So far, no one had said a word to me about the incident this morning, so I had assumed that no one had seen it. I told her about what happened, and she said "Oh yeah! I saw it, I thought maybe you knew what happened" No, I replied, and told her what *I* thought had happened, including the fact that I felt it was my own stupidity. She explained that what had actually happened was that there was a pretty good dusting of sandy gravel in the median, that was the same colour as the road surface. I never saw it, and when I gunned it to get out in front of the idiot in the SUV, the back end broke free. She said she wouldnt have seen the gravel either, if I hadnt ran right through it under power like that. " I dont know how you saved it, your rear end nearly came around both directions. I thought you knew what happened, but you did a nice job keeping her upright." After realizing what exactly went wrong, I felt a bit more re-assured about my ability, and Griffs as well. After lunch, I felt much more comfortable, and started hitting the corners pretty hard. Saturday's ride was pretty good, and would be hard to top, but SOMEHOW, these guys had saved the best for last.

[Craiger]

Thank you for the adventure, Cafe Kid. Very well written. I think I'll go to bed, now, and, hopefully, dream of a similar adventure.

It's getting late (12:18am) and I have to get up in 4 hours.

[Steve]

OK, I will fill in a couple of things that TCK hinted at.

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.)

One of the wives of the other Wingers was sweeping the gravel out of the entrance to the parkinglot. How awesome is that?

We stopped for gas, and a drink, and then continued on to BlackWater Falls state park....more to come...and more pics and a VIDEO if i can figure it out...lol,

When standing on the overlook, in every direction you turned your head there were mountain tops covered with lush trees. Greens of every hue. A good likely 150 drop to the bottom of the canyon, and rushing over the edge of the ridge directly across from this point was a beautiful waterfall cascading down nearly vertical from the top to the bottom. The sky was gorgeous blue, the kind of blue you can only see when you're far out from any large city, and high enough that it doesnt disipate into the horizon in a whispy grey/blue instead of the vivid colour that I was seeing. On the air, it seemed it was snowing, as tufts of cotton from the cotton wood trees floated across the slight, cool breeze. I know Steve got some pics of this, so maybe he might indulge me with a couple posted on the thread here. It was simply astounding.

OK, I did not get any pictures of the sky from that overlook, so here are a few from the ride that fit the descripttion:

[Steve]

A few more ride pix:

[Craiger]

Ah! You're killing me, Steve. I've really got to get to bed, now. LOL!

[Steve]

Some of the roads were so narrow that there was not enough room for a yellow line. We were often questioned by some of the riders, "Whose driveway is this?"


Yes, they really mean it !!!


In West Virginia, if you are not on a hill, you are in the valley. Water tends to gather at the bottom of the valleys, so we were often riding beside the river.

[Steve]

You may have noticed that not all of the roads are in perfect, pristine condition. This was highlighted by the occasional detour.


Most of the roads were very good, here is our group spread out over a quarter of a mile, and this is only one of four groups.




Lots, lots more, so I won't bore you with them all. 8-[

[Steve]

Ah! You're killing me, Steve. I've really got to get to bed, now. LOL!

Sorry, Craiger, I am done for now. 8-[

.

[TheCafeKid]

We left Seneca Rocks, and rode for a bit, turning onto a road called Smokehole Road. Apparently, last year, the organizers had lead the group down this road last year, explaining that the road was gravel, but well manicured, and since all of the riders were experienced good riders, they felt the scenery was worth the trip on the gravel road. But when they pulled onto it, they remarked that apparently they had paved it since the leader had last been on it just three or four days ago. So it had been a year since it had been paved, and it was still in great shape. A one laner, but it was nice and smooth, and ran up and thru the hills, twisting smoothly in nice sweepers as it did. We pulled to the side of the one lane road and everyone dismounted to take some photos of the gorgeous river that ran along side. It was so fresh and clean looking, I felt as if, should I ever get lost in this wilderness, I would certainly have no qualms about drinking from it.



We remounted and headed further up the road, eventually meeting back up with a two lane, but still remote country road, and headed toward a little town for a gas stop and a break. I cant remember the name of the town, but a rail line ran thru it, and the old train depot had been, as many have across the country, turned into a museaum of sorts.

This was a prime spot for a train depot, as there was yet another large creek/small river running along side the tracks, and I could imagine the days of the B&O steam engines pulling into the station for a resupply of water to feed the boilers.

(BTW thats Steves baby sister there in the pic, the one who is in the process of getting geared up to take orders for embroidered GS Resources shirts )

We then headed out, rolling through the little town, and the local folks, who likely see many parades of bikes thru the season were seemingly accustomed to it, accepting of it and waved to all of us as we passed with smiles on their faces. I feel certain they KNOW what a great little treasure of the world they have there in thier backyards, and are proud of the fact that people travel hundreds and thousands of miles, just for the pleasure of enjoying this little peice of the world.

We ran on a two lane road for a good while, which was relaxing, as we had just come off a good set of twisties that required quite a bit of concentration. One thing I had noticed about all of the miles so far: Whether it was planned this way or not, the organizers of this ride had done a tremendous job in balancing the amount of technical roads, with relaxing cruise type roads. And they seemed to come at just the right times. When you were just about at the point where you might become a bit complacent behind the bars, not bored mind you, but where your attention might start to wander toward the scenery a bit TOO much, a road came up with a great amount of technical turns, that snapped you right back to the task at hand. And when your concentration level was strained from flicking the bike back and forth, and judging entry speed, lean angle and the like, there would be a road that would allow you to relax just a bit, and realign your thought process. I found it to be most enthralling, and it made the many miles traveled each day seem to fly by much too quickly. I never felt stressed or tired in the saddle, and felt as if I could go on forever, as long as I was on the bike.

We climbed the mountains a bit, and passed an area with a very VERY large Astronomical Observatory. I wish we had stopped there so I could take pics of this, but it was likely the largest satalite/radio disch I have ever seen. But, unfortunately, we stopped for a break and a drink just passed the picture taking opertunity.

After a break we continued up the road. It was now that I noticed the group seemed to be spreading out more and more. The leader wasnt necessarily hauling ass, but he wasnt slowing down in the turns either, and some of the group started to fall back. *I* unfortunately didnt have a CB to hear all the banter, but I am sure, based on comments I heard later that evening from some of the riders, that they were getting rather upset because the group leader was often getting out of radio range of his tail gunner, and would only slow down when prompted, and even then, just for mere seconds.

There came a point where Steves youngest sister, her husband Bernie (yeah the Connie14 guy) and myself were together, but a bit back from the lead group, and quite a bit ahead of the rest of the group. We could still, at most times, see the lead group, but I realized then that I hadnt seen the gorgeous white Goldwing that had been tailing me, or Steve or his wife behind us in a while. Again, not having a radio, I didnt know exactly what to do. I stayed with Bernie and Steves sister. We were now climbing back up a ridge, with lovely "POSTED" 20MPH switch backs. My only real other mistake of the weekend was trying to hang a little too much in Bernies hip pocket, and around a LONG right hand, decreasing sweeper, I was layed over to the point that I felt a peg drag, and I was drifting out into the other lane. This was bad, and could have been REAL bad, but thankfully no one was coming the other direction. But I was layed over so far that dropping throttle wasnt something I really felt comfortable in doing, and as some of you know who both are accustomed to chain AND shaft drive bikes, shafties have a little bit of a different reaction to doing so when cornering. SO I scrubbed off some speed with the rear brake, and managed to push a tad more on the bar and get it back into my lane. This was the point in the day where I realized that I was pushing TOO hard, not riding MY ride, and putting myself in harms way. We caught up with the lead group, and made a right turn up Snowshoe Mountain road. I didnt remember seeing this on the route sheet earlier in the morning, but then again, I hadnt really looked at it that hard either. I found it more entertaining to NOT know exactly what was going to happen. But Steve and the rear group I found out later were well out of radio range and never heard the call to head up this un-planned route. Steves sister, Bernie and I slowed, and Steves sister waved us passed, saying she was going to fall back, since SHE had a radio, to see if she could hook up with them. Bernie shot me a look, I shot him one back and a smile, and we darted up the road, hitting the twisties hard. I was pretty sure he had seen me drift out earlier, so I think he held back a bit to allow me to keep up with out being dangerous. Up the mountain we went, and soon after Steve's sister caught up with us, and us with the rest of the lead group. We hit the summit of the mountain, and the view was breathtaking. I think I could see where the Earth curved away on the horizon. Absolutely cloudless sky, and visibility was seemingly infinate. Again, I thought mayhaps we would stop, to both allow the rest of the group to catch up, and some snaps, but the leader just kept on going. I must say, while he did wrong in losing part of his group, and his tail gunner, this man could RIDE that Wing. I dont think I saw his brake lights come on once all the way down that mountain. Steves sister fell back into the gunner position, and at the bottom we stopped at an Exxon to see if Steve and the rest of the group would pass by. We waited a bit, but then the leader ordered everyone to mount up again, and we were on our way. Steve and everyone else that had been seperated had GPSs so I assume he felt as if they could find their way back. Even I was a little irritated by this. It was simply rude, and not very safe. Probably the only fault on the whole weekend by the organizers/leaders.

We cruised back to Elkins and to the motel, where pulling in I found that Steve and the rest of the group were already there. The simply hadnt turned to climb the mountain, and headed for home, beating us by quite a bit. When I entered the motel room, Steve was sitting at the desk purusing the laptop. " I dont know where you guys took off to," he said "but it certainly wasnt on the route. " I felt bad, but I only followed those i was around, because I sure as hell didnt know where I was, and if I had gotten separated, I would have been seriously screwed, especially since by the time we reached the motel, I was seriously low on petrol, and had no idea where I might find a station out there.

[TheCafeKid]

After everyone got cleaned up and rested for a bit, there was a big entire rally picture out in front of the fancy looking building next to the motel and then dinner and a Roast or the leaders and organizers of the rally at the steak house across the road. The dinner was great, I was famished, as per the norm for me, I ate rather lite at lunch, because I dont like riding on a full stomache because it makes me tired and my attention span wanes. The Roast was pretty amusing, I certainly got a few laughs out of it. And Steves family was recognized as being the largest single family contengent of the rally, and he stood and talked about how it was the first time that they were all together with thier bikes in one place. He was indeed proud and moved, and rightfully so. His family are amazing people, and I feel blessed to have met them all. And some even mentioned that I was adopted family for the weekend, and I appreciated the welcomness i felt from them.

The main organizer of the event, Wayne, then talked about what had actually started this rally. 6 years before, returning from a trip to Niagra Falls, a few of the Ohio GWRRA X2 chapter had stopped near Elkins because one of the bikes had developed a severe bubble on the tire. Steve was with the group, and thumbed thru the Wing directory, calling the few members that were in this part of WV. He happened to call Wayne, and ask him if he would be willing, since it was listed in the Directory that he had a trailer, to come out and trailer the bike to a place where they could get a tire. Since then the rally has accumulated over 6000 miles, in 6 years, and well over 60 bikes. Pretty amazing in such a short time. Its this type of comraderie that makes groups like the GWRRA and our beloved GSR such a great place, full of great people.

After dinner there was yet another tire changing session, as one of this years riders bikes had also developed a bubble. And, incidentally, it was one of the few Harley riders in the group that went back to his house to pick up HIS jack to change the tire. Hows that for irony? Heh.

I went back to the motel room, beat, a lil saddle sore, and elated at the wonderfull weekend adventure I had. I fell asleep without remembering doing so. The morning came too quickly, and it was time to head home.

The ride home, while beautiful, was somewhat saddening. I wanted to stay out there and ride forever in that beautiful land, and god or whatever maker you may believe in is apparently a motorcyclist, because this place that was created was seemingly invented for just that. We cruised up WV47, crossed the Ohio River and up Ohio 50 thru Athens and Chillicothe till we hit the superslab again. The pace was as quick as possible, as we were endeavoring to beat a very severe storm front that had done some serious damage on its trip across the midwest, and was headed for Dayton. I set my throttle lock, right hand on the bar, left hand across my tank bag and my chin rested on my arm in an effort to tuck down behind my fairing to avoid the beating that the oncoming front's heavy headwind was dishing out. Around Xenia (no its not pronounced X-IN-E-A) I parted ways with Steve and his family, and blasted my way home as quick as I could. The skies grew darker with every passing moment.

Pulling into my driveway, a wave of depression washed over me. I dont know when I will ever be able to return to that seeming wonderland for motorcyclists, and it will be much too long if I ever do. The memories I took home this weekend will be ones that remain close to me for the rest of my days, not only for the roads and the nature, but for the people too.

I want to thank Steve and his family dearly for inviting me along, one cannot repay someone for the opertunity to partake in such a perfect weekend away from the real world. They may never know exactly how much it meant to me, as simple words cannot express it...

[Steve]

We remounted and headed further up the road, eventually meeting back up with a two lane, but still remote country road, and headed toward a little town for a gas stop and a break. I cant remember the name of the town, but a rail line ran thru it, and the old train depot had been, as many have across the country, turned into a museum of sorts.

The name of the town is Cass. The railroad is the Cass Scenic Railroad. They use a rather different Shay locomotive for their trains. It was not there when we were, so here are pictures from a previous trip.

Instead of the typical horizontal steam cylinders driving the wheels, the Shay uses three cylinders on each side, driving a 120-degree crankshaft that then turns a shaft that runs along the entire side of the engine and the tender. This shaft has pivots and sliding joints to allow the trucks to make turns, but it has a bevel gear to drive every wheel on the locomotive.

We climbed the mountains a bit, and passed an area with a very VERY large Astronomical Observatory. I wish we had stopped there so I could take pics of this, but it was likely the largest satalite/radio disch I have ever seen. But, unfortunately, we stopped for a break and a drink just passed the picture taking opertunity.

That would be the Green Bank Radio Observatory. The world's largest, fully-steerable single aperture antenna.

[TheCafeKid]

Thanks Steve for the bonus pics\\/!!

In retrospect, I took alot more away from this weekend than pictures, memories and the chance to ride on wonderfull roads with equally wonderfull people. I feel as though I came back a different, better rider. I dont normally ride with large groups, as a matter of fact this weekend would be exactly TWICE that i have done so, with the first being the weekend before. The few riders that I have ridden with regularly, besides Steve and my step dad, have less experience and a smaller skillset (not that mine is huge) than myself, so I oft felt stagnate. There is certainly something to be said about riding with people who are better riders than yourself, and being able to study their skills while doing so. I feel more confident in my own ability now, and certainly learned a thing or two about taking corners. Once again, something that you gain that cannot be repaid.

[dardoonk]

Thanks Steve for the bonus pics\\/!!

There is certainly something to be said about riding with people who are better riders than yourself, and being able to study their skills while doing so. I feel more confident in my own ability now, and certainly learned a thing or two about taking corners. Once again, something that you gain that cannot be repaid.

Ditto, well said.. That's exactly the point I was trying to make in my PM.

It's a great feeling to come away from any event, whether it be a day ride or a long weekend rally, with more just some great pictures and some new friends. When you can combine that, along with learning something about yourself, your bike, and your riding skills, you've turned a good ride into a great ride.