It's a rainy day in Bangor, Maine and I'm holed up in a Super 8. Good time to rest my legs and get the blog up to date.
For $55 night I can't complain. And did I mention the free breakfast?
For most of the last week I've been on the bike making miles or in the woods hiking. I haven't taken the time to update this blog because it's quick to upload postcards to Facebook while getting gear on/off the bike, stopping to check directions (me? lost?) or right after taking a picture.
But I've got plenty of time today!
:)
The Recap up to and including Dee Paw
As you recall, I started out with a great bang on 295 in Jacksonville. Which was the sound of a nail exiting my rear tire. To my great frustration and after much sweating and cursing I threw in the towel and got towed home. By the time the friendly folks at Cycle Gear had mounted a new Angel GT (and given me a tip about where I can get the old tire repaired), it was just too late in the day to get started again. So I gave the bike a bit of the once over. And discovered the brakes needed attention.
So bright and early Sunday morning I returned to Cycle Gear, where to my great delight they actually had the front pads in stock.And a handy dandy brake fluid bleeding kit. Unfortunately they were out of stock of rear pads and none of the dealers were open. Oh well, 80% of a bike's braking is done by the front brakes. And (if you looked at them in the dark) the rear pads still had a thin coating of brake liner. That'll be JUST fine.
I spent a good part of Sunday sweating and cursing and replacing pads and brake fluid. By the end of the day, the front brakes felt great and the rear brakes were soft but working. In the process I also corrected a slight misalignment of the front right caliper and adjusted the suspension for the additional weight I'd be carrying. Then I loaded the bike up and took it for a spin down A1A and voila! Rides great (the rear shock in particular felt really planted) stops (eventually) and nothing else broke. Success!
On Monday, I was up and out the door by 7:30 and on the road shortly after that. Since I'd lost two days fixing the bike, I decided to take the highway until I was north of Atlanta. Traffic was not bad and I got rained on only briefly heading west on 10 in Florida. It was hot, but as long as I was moving I was fine. Bike ran great. By Monday afternoon, I was north of Atlanta, off the highway and starting to wind my way into the southern reaches of the Applachians. Specifically, I was in the Cohutta National Forest on highway 60 and prime street biking country.
For the next couple of days (really, until I got off the Blue Ridge Parkway on Wednesday afternoon) it would not be a stretch to say that I saw more motorcycles than cars. "Bikers Welcome" signs were everywhere. Gee, I thought, these folks are all waiting for me! They would be rushing out of their stores to welcome me in. They would be offering me discounts and free coffee and sweeping the gravel off the pavement!
And generally, folks were pretty friendly. But I was not really the kind of biker they were talking about.
"Bikers Welcome" really means "We welcome Harley Riders who spend big bucks on their bikes, mostly ride them to get to restaurants and gift shops and who bring their wives and girl friends with them. We are willing to put up with the unnecesssarily loud pipes as long as you will buy lots of stuff."
But I guess most store owners realize that in order to get real bikers, they have to put up with some of us riff raff. And as long as we will part with a few greenbacks, what the heck. Gotta have a screw loose to begin with to tool around in the open air on two wheels.
Anyway, back to Route 60. What a great road. It twists and turns and rises and falls and passes through forest, farms and other pleasant places, generally following the Toccoa river. In short, it was great. I stopped in at a biker welcome spot for a cold ice tea and some local info. The woman tending the store told me that I should head back to Dee paw for some great camping.
That left me scratching my head a bit because I hadn't seen a sign for Dee Paw. But a few miles back up the road I saw it. "Deep Hole Recreation area". I guess Deep Hole is the English translation of the southern name. In any event, it did turn out to be a decent little campground right on the banks of the Toccoa river and completely empty.
While I was setting up my stuff a young guy came in and fished for a while. Eventually he came back up from the river and we chatted about my trip, the fishing, etc. Once he left, I didn't see another person.
It didn't rain that night, but it was dripping wet with dew and humidity in the morning. I packed up early and headed out full of anticipation of riding Wolfpen Gap, rumored to be a top notch biking road.
WolfPen Gap
Before getting down to the business of putting some miles on the bike I wanted to see if I could locate some rear brake pads. Based on the short stretch of route 60 I'd done, I began to suspect that rear brakes could come in handy. So I stopped at this little place, ordered up a light breakfast, sat down on the porch and started calling dealers.
I ended up ordering pads from two dealers, one in State College PA and one in Syracuse. I figured I'd be to State College Thursday or Friday, and Syracuse the next day. Each dealer figured they could get them by the end of the week. So I'd need to make the ones I had last for a while.
At this point, I will just go ahead and acknowledge what you already said to yourself back at the start of this post. No, I have never made a road trip 100% fully prepped and capable. Yes, there is ALWAYS something broken (mechanical, physical, etc). If not at the start of the trip, then very soon afterwards. So yep, this trip is no different and in fact could well serve as the prototype for every road trip I've taken:
1. An old vehicle that needs repair or was just repaired, usually by myself and usually appearing to be just barely holding together.
2. Clueless sense of direction
3. Unclear destination
4. Usually at an inappropriate time of the year (ridiculous rain fall and soaring temps this time around)
5. Steadfast determination to pay the absolute least amount for lodging, food, etc even when it's getting late, it looks like it might rain, the next town is an hour away and perfectly reasonable (but most likely more expensive) options are whizzing by left and right
All of which is to say that I felt perfectly comfortable pushing on tp Wolfpen Gap.
I had a great time riding this road. With the stiffer suspension setting the fz1 was cornering nicely despite the weight it was carrying, and the reputation of having power to spare was justified. I was nowhere near pushing the limits and the bike was responding brilliantly. I was a bit nervous about going light on the rear brakes, but the back end was absolutely solid.
I saw very little traffic. Some bicyclers and an occasional car. Everyone was respecting the center line and there was little or no gravel to contend with and the pavement was dry. All combined for a fun ride and a great warm up for the next two days. As good as it was, even better roads were to come.
Before going on, I should also address the Dragon. A few folks I met asked me if I was going to do the Dragon. Most of you have probably not heard of it, but there is a stretch of road near the town of Deals Gap called the Tail of the Dragon which is for many East Coast bikers a bucket list item. It is touted as having 318 turns in 11 miles. Given the publicity and visibility it has it just sounds like a head on collision waiting to happen to me. Ultimately I just don't have the confidence in my fellow drivers, which is why I also don't join group rides.
Cherohala and getting started on the BRP
Having gotten my feet wet, so to speak, it was time to push on. The track I had planned wandered a bit east & west as it moved North. My next goal was to get to Tellico Plains which I was anxious to see for two reasons. First, it is the official start of the TransAmerica Trail (TAT) which is a dual sport ride that crosses the country (terminates in Oregon) and is on my bucket list. And secondly, it kicks off the Cherohala Skway. Having ridden it,the Cherohala ranks with Skyline drive (Shenandoahs) and the Blue Ridge parkway as scenic drives worth doing but it gets less publicity.
Tellico Plains is a colorful town and completely biker friendly. I'm sorry I didn't take the time to wander around a bit which is one of the trade offs I ended up making. And I'm sure I'll be back.
I already posted a representative picture of the Cherohala, but for the record here is another.
As you can see, it was a beautiful sunny day and relatively clear. I should also point out that at those elevations, the temperature was very comfortably in the mid to upper 70s.
Descending out of the Cherohala skyway, my plan was to next join the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was at this point that my infamous sense of direction kicked in. As you know, I have an unshakable confidence that I can find my way to wherever I am going and need no help or suggestions as to which is the right way to go. As you also know, I have the worst sense of direction ever given to a man. I do not find the two in conflict and can amuse myself almost endlessly by second guessing my sense of direction. In combination, these two traits mean that I am forever getting lost, finding my way and getting lost again. Looking on the bright side (you may have heard me mention this), I am really good at getting unlost.
In this case, I had the route well marked out on the GPS. True to form, at some point I became certain that I was going the wrong way (I wasn't) and that the GPS was wrong (it wasn't). So I went the way I thought I should go and got hopelessly lost in and around the town of Bryson City, NC. Add to this that it was the middle of the day, blazing hot and I was wearing full riding gear, most of it black.
Bryson City is a great little tourist town along the banks of a river that drains Fontana lake. I became very familiar with the streets running along the banks of this river, the downtown streets (there are only two of them) as well as a number of small residential streets nestled in the hills around the city. The people became very familiar with me as well, riding up and down the roads, stopping to consult and berate my GPS, making U turns and the like. A few people started waving as I drove by, first this way and then that.
Well, I did finally stop, park the bike, sit down in the shade and really study the map and get re-oriented. Turns out the GPS was right and I should have just followed it. Which I did and the next thing I new I was climbing back up in to the Smoky Mountains and along the cool and winding roads of the Blue Ridge parkway. Not really sure what all the fuss was about.
I spent that night in a small state campground in North Carolina. It was about 10 miles off the parkway and down route 215, a road that easily rivals Wolfpen for turns.
The Blue Ridge Parkway with a stop at the Peaks of Otter
I had hoped to complete the BRP in one day, but it is just too long. If you've never driven it, it is intended as scenic route which it is. It has enough twists and turns that it requires that you pay attention. There are almost no stop signs or street lights (for 1000 miles!). The posted speed limit is 45, which is about the right speed for taking in the sights. I'd say my max speed was probably around 60. I can't recall anyone passing me, and I only occasionally had to pass someone who was really taking their time. It's not really a road that you want to go fast on. You get a certain pace and rhythm and it becomes really pleasant and relaxing.
There are an endless number of overlooks. At first, you stop at every second or third one and take a couple of pictures. Pretty soon you've got 50 pictures that all look the same. So eventually you only stop if something really catches your eye.
The BRP runs generally along the ridges of the mountains, so it was really cool and pleasant riding. In the mornings I actually considered wearing my leather gloves although I think I put them on only once. It was also mostly dry and sunny, but occasional showers were passing through and the pavement was ocasionally damp. I got caught in a shower only once on the parkway, while I was in Virginia.
As mentioned, there are precious few stops along the Parkway. Most are visitor information centers or park maintained facilities (campgrounds, etc). There are roads intersecting the parkway and take you in to the towns that it runs between. It can be fun just to get off to get gas, check out the little town and have a sandwich before you get back on.
I ended up stopping the night in a parkway campground called the Peaks of Otter. I never took the time to find out where the name came from, although there was a little lake where they had built a lodge. Maybe there were Otters in the Lake? Like the nights before,there were very few campers there due in part to it being in the middle of the week and in part to the rainy weather. I did notice a nature center and a trail head. So the next morning I checked it out and decided to take the hike up to Sharp Top Mountain.
It turned out to be a relatively steep climb to the top. Many others were doing the hike as well. Given the humidity, everyone was sweating like crazy. There were two views. One from a set of boulders, right on a cliff. And the other from the summit of the mountain, where they had built a little shelter.
This is from the boulders.
And this one from the summit. You can see the little lake down at the bottom which is where the trail starts.
This was my last stop on the BRP. The parkway extends about another 100 north from here, and then it was down into the heat of the valleys.
This is also a logical stopping point for this blog entry because it more or less represents the geographic division between South and North. The next entry will cover Pennsylvania and North.
