I really have a great job! Not only do I get to play with computers all day long every day, but they actually pay me to do it! On top of that, occasionally, I get a break from the day to day and go on business trips. And, when you're traveling on business, the company I work for allows you to choose the mode of travel. If you choose to use your own vehicle, you get paid 29 cents a mile. Can you imagine getting paid 29 cents a mile to go motorcycling? Well, that's what I've been doing for the last 8 days...
This was to be the latest of several trips I have taken to Warner Robins Georgia. Each time in the past, I wanted to ride my bike on the trip. But, for one reason or another, it never worked out. Either the trip was only going to be 2 or 3 days leaving me no time for travel because I was expected back at work the next day, or it was scheduled during the winter when the weather up here was lousy. Of course, the weather down there was almost always great for motorcycling and every time I was down there I wished I had my bike with me.
Well, this time it finally worked out. The trip was to be 4 or 5 days at the customer's site, so I could have a weekend on both ends of the trip for travel time. It's the middle of the summer, so the weather should be fine. And, I've been so busy this year, I haven't been able to ride half as much as I usually do. I was primed for a bunch of extra riding.
Heading out at sunrise on Saturday, it was so warm even that early, I was quite comfortable in just a sweatshirt. I managed to get well into Pennsylvania before noon. That's when I ran into my first bit of trouble. My bike started sputtering and then it just died while I was out in the left lane passing a tractor-trailer rig. It took me over an hour to track down the loose wire on the ignition coil. But, I got it going all right and stopped in the next town for a late lunch.
Pulling into the restaurant parking lot, I stopped to talk to a couple of older guys getting ready to leave on their big foreign tour bikes. They started bragging to me about how they had covered 300 miles already that day. Of course, I couldn't resist pointing out that the trip meter on my Harley Davidson cruiser indicated that we were over 400 miles into our trip.
Even with the little delay beside the road, I managed to get into Virginia well before nightfall. That was great because one of the highlights of this trip was going to be traveling on the Sky Line Drive in the Shenandoah National Park. This is the finest 105 mile long stretch of motorcycling road I've ever been on. It's a winding mountain road with rest areas every few miles overlooking some of the most scenic vistas imaginable.
The only complaint I could have about it is the plentiful wild-life that apparently has no fear of people or traffic. You definitely have to exercise caution. You never know when you'll round a corner and find several deer standing in the middle of the road. I saw more deer that day than I've seen in over ten years. Just after watching the beautiful sunset, I stopped to put a jacket on. As I pulled into the rest area, I noticed another deer across the road. While I was digging in the saddlebags for warmer wrappings, the deer crossed the road and walked towards me stopping about 30 yards away to graze. Just then, a car came around the corner and seeing the deer, stopped about 20 feet away from the deer. The driver of the car got out and walked around the front of her car to where she was only about 15 feet away from the deer and stood there watching it graze. The deer didn't even take off when I fired up my bike and rode right past it to continue on my ride. It was still standing there grazing with the lady watching it as I disappeared down the road.
The next morning, I got up early and traveled about 100 more miles down the Blue Ridge Parkway before returning to the interstate highway system in order to get down to Georgia on time. If I had more time, I would have liked to travel the entire length of the Blue Ridge Parkway. But, with the speed limit posted at 45 M.P.H. it was just taking too long.
It's not that uncommon in Boston to see some executive rumbling into work on a motorcycle with his tie flapping in the wind over his shoulder. Those 'Good Ole Boys' down in Georgia acted like they had never seen such a thing. Even the lady at the counter of the motel I was staying at just had to tell me about `the guy' she saw riding a Harley with a suit on. I guess she couldn't recognize me since I had already changed into my jeans and T-shirt.
During the week I was down in Georgia the weather was actually too warm for comfort and the traffic too heavy to enjoy riding during the day, on top of having one hell of a sunburn from my ride down. I decided to wait until after dark most nights before venturing out for food and drink. Even after the sun went down (and in the early morning on my way to work) it was strictly T-shirt only weather with the temperatures in the mid-80's. I did take one side trip up to Macon to visit the Harley dealer for a set of plugs, an air cleaner element, and the obligatory addition to my T-shirt collection.
My bike's name is Mr. `T'; because he's big, he's black, he's powerful, he wears a lot of shiny metal, and he grumbles when he talks. My brother-in-law, Sam, even swears that he can hear him say "I pity-dafool" when I fire him up. Anyway, Mr. `T' seemed to be running a little rough and I thought the plugs and air filter might help, but they didn't. I was beginning to think he just didn't like the hot weather.
I got up at 4:00 A.M. on Friday, so I could get an early start home. I had everything strapped on and I was headed out (still only in a T-shirt) by 5. The Weather Channel was forecasting rain for that morning. Still dark out, I could make out black clouds to my left, but stars and a bright moon to my right. Heading east towards Columbia S.C. I would be turning north there and heading into the rain.
About 7:00 A.M., I was still in rural Georgia, about 100 miles from nowhere when Mr. `T' started letting me know there really was something wrong. He wouldn't stay running at 60 M.P.H., but if I slowed down to 50 everything smoothed out, for a while... Then I noticed the tachometer was way off. At 50 M.P.H.. the tach usually reads about 2400 R.P.M. as long as I'm in 5th gear. If it's 2600 then I forgot to shift up from 4th gear (again). Now, let's see, if it's at 2000 then that would probably mean I'm in 7th gear?!? I don't think so. Uh-Oh, now he won't stay running at 50 so I slow down to 40. The last time he acted like this, it was a dead battery. With a 4 year old battery, I was starting to wish I had changed it before I went on this excursion. Hey! Stupid! If your battery is giving up the ghost why not try turning off your headlight!
Traveling along at 60 M.P.H. again, I made it to a big truck service station where I pulled in and started checking out Mr. `T' before I shut him down. I was pretty sure that if I turned him off he wouldn't start up again. It didn't take me long, tracing the wires for the charging system, to find the large plug connecting the regulator to the alternator hanging loose, completely disconnected. I must have knocked it off with the high pressure sprayer at the car wash earlier in the week. Up on the interstate zipping along at 70 with the headlight back on and the tachometer acting normal, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
A light rain started just before I got to Columbia. So, I pulled over and prepared for the worst. Complete rain gear, rubber boots, rain mitts and my full coverage helmet (in S.C. no less) and I was pretty sure I could go swimming without getting wet. I hate riding in wet clothes and I was planning to ride for at least another 8 hours that day. It started pouring about 10 minutes later and continued for over an hour, but I stayed as dry as a bone.
I stopped in Charlotte to visit a mighty fine lady who had worked with me at Teradyne until just a few weeks earlier. She moved down there with her husband so he could start a new job. I was only planning on stopping long enough to say Hi and see how she was doing, but she wouldn't let me leave until I had eaten and rested. Thank you Anne, most gracious hostess, for the hot coffee, delicious sandwich, and warm soup. I really hadn't planned on mooching a free lunch off from you, but it certainly was appreciated.
The rain finally let up the next morning just before I got to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. The repetitious bumping across the expansion joints with crosswinds gusting to 40 M.P.H. wasn't nearly what I had imagined. Maybe if the weather was nicer and I got to stop and take a few pictures, it would have been worth it.
One thing that impressed me on this whole trip was the friendliness of the other bikers I met along the way. Back when I lived in Vermont, motorcyclists always waved to each other on the road. Since moving down here to Mass. I've fallen out of the habit because no one ever waved back. Almost every rider I met on this trip waved to me as I rode by. I think I'll pick up the habit again and see if my friendly gestures can induce some camaraderie among this state's enthusiasts.
By the time I got home, the temperature had dropped to about 50. Quite a change from the 90+ degree temperatures in Georgia two days earlier. But, Effie was sure glad to see me and she always has a way of making me feel warm.