A Ride Gone Bad Part 3

A Ride Gone Bad Part 3

Continued from A Ride Gone Bad Part 2

The wait for my wife to pick us up seemed like it would last forever. My left ankle was throbbing and swelling up like a balloon. On top of that my right elbow looked like it had half a golf ball under the skin. It hurt to take a deep breath, cough or laugh. Finally my wife arrived with Jakes wife Kristen and a couple of my kids. They helped me into the cage and we started the long drive home.

After dropping Jake and Kristen off at their house we arrived home and prepared to take me to my local medical center to get checked out. We arrived five minutes before closing and they stayed to let a doctor check me out. He looked me over and I was still getting light headed when lying down and setting up, or even just moving my head fast.

The doc said I had an almost concussion or as he put it “scrambled brains”. He gave me a prescription for an anti-inflammatory and I declined one for pain. The doc also said keep ice on my ankle and heat on my upper back. The visit did not last very long and we headed for home. I stayed in bed the rest of the weekend with ice packs on my foot

I was able to gingerly limp into work on Monday with quite a bit of pain, but could not perform my duties at my normal rate of speed. I kept my ankle iced down at night and continued to take my anti-inflammatory medication until it was gone. By the end of the day Monday the bruising really started to appear. From the bruising on the front of my foot and the bend in the bikes shifter pedal I think my foot went under the shifter and got hyper extended at the ankle when I flew off.

I think Mistress, my bike, fared worse than me. The left front light bar is broken. The left rear turn signal stalk is damaged. The left saddle bag is damaged worse than it was. The left side of the wind screen was scraped as well as the shift lever, mirror, floorboard etc. The left handle bar mount was bent back. My sons handle bars were twisted and despite being in much pain managed to ride both the bikes one at a time back the next day.

My Scorpion helmet was scraped on the back and my Frogg Toggs don’t appear to have a scratch on them, even on the elbow that was scraped. There was also a small nick on the front of one of my boots. All in all as far as motorcycle accidents go it was not too bad. We both were able to basically walk away and the bikes were somewhat ride able. Now I just need to start saving up to fix the bike…

A Ride Gone Bad Part 2

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A Ride Gone Bad Part 2 Continued from A Ride Gone Bad Part 1

There we were, my son Jake and I, heading home from Cresson through Burleson on Highway 377 in what was now just a light rain. We started picking up Saturday morning traffic now among all the stop and go of the traffic lights. We were both in the right hand lane and Jake was in front of me in the left track and I was riding in the right track. Everything was going fine until the white older Tahoe in front of Jake hit the brakes for no apparent reason.

I saw Jakes brake light come on and his rear tire start to slide to the right. Everything appeared to be happening in slow motion now. I lightly applied my brakes and it was like we were on ice. I saw Jakes bike going down as he went flying towards the stopped SUV in my line of track. At the same time I felt my rear tire starting to slide out to the right. This is where things become fuzzy.

I’m guessing my tires got grip and locked up sending my high side. I remember feeling in my head like I was doing a flip midair. I remember the back of my helmet slamming down hitting the street hard followed closely by my shoulders and upper back almost simultaneously knocking the wind out of me. I remember looking up into the sky seeing stars in my head and rain sprinkling down onto my face shield.

Interesting things go through your head when something like this goes down. I was more concerned about my son than myself knowing he has a lot more life to live than I do. I definitely did not want to run into him. The other thought was the fact that if the crash did not kill me my wife would.

I heard Jake off to my right yelling “Dad, dad!” I lifted up my right hand still too stunned to get up. I realized my left ankle was hurting and that my left knee was bent and my foot was underneath me. I managed to get my left leg straightened out as my ankle started to throb. A Good Samaritan was standing over me dialing 911 on his cell phone asking me if I was all right. I tried to set up on my own and could not. The Good Samaritans wife came over and held an umbrella over me as Jake came over to see how I was. I was relieved to hear he was banged up pretty bad but ok.

I was able to slowly get to my feet just as the Paramedics arrived. I must have slid quite a ways because I wound up in the grass along the side of the road head pointed away from the road. I could barely put any weight on my left foot and my right elbow was hurting. I hobbled over to the ambulance to get examined while Jake went to push our damaged bikes out of the street.

Jake joined me in the ambulance as they checked me out. They asked for all our pertinent information and a police officer also quizzed us while they checked Jake out. The only blood was from my right elbow which was scraped and starting to swell up like a goose egg. We turned down a ride to the emergency room and Jake exited while I limped off the ambulance. It was still sprinkling.

Jake had called his mom, my wife, earlier and told me to call as I limped over to the nearest strip center building, a Texas Car Tittle and Payday Loan Services building next to a Domino’s Pizza, to hopefully get out of the rain. I called and she was already on the way to get us so I gave her directions. Just as I was about to set down and the cement in front of the building a young lady named Melisa asked if we would like to come inside and sit down. After explaining we were soaking wet she still offered us some chairs at one of the tables inside so we thankfully obliged her. She also explained that she would enjoy the company because the business had been held up, robbed, just the day before.

We set down a second and Jake suggested I take off my left boot before it swelled up any more. So while I struggled with my boot Jake went to roll the bikes up to one of the parking spaces in front of the store. While he was doing that the Domino’s Pizza manager offered to lock the bikes in his storage area which we politely declined.

I was feeling light headed again and when Jake came in I asked him to get me a bottle of water from my saddle bag which he promptly brought me. He went back out as I drank and then I got dizzier and had to lie down on the floor for a few minutes. Jake came back in and then I was feeling level headed again and I crawled back into the chair again. My head felt like I had an inner ear infection and made me dizzy every time I moved my head fast....

To Be Continued.....

Ride on,
Torch

A Ride Gone Bad Part 1

Jake

A Ride Gone Bad Part 1

It all started on a gloomy rainy Saturday morning with plans for my son Jake and I to take a short ride down to Cresson Texas to the Central Motorcycle Roadracing Association bike races. I planned on leaving early enough to get there for the opening mini races. The weather forecast for that morning said scattered showers for the morning and a lessor chance for the evening. There were also flash flood warnings for the area we were riding to. On top of that there was also a cool front coming in the afternoon.

I loaded 4 water bottles in my left saddle bag and my mesh jacket in the other with the liner, just in case it got cold. I also grabbed the camera and stowed it in a zip lock freezer bag for water protection in the saddlebag. I put on my riding boots, my new Frogg Toggs, which my son had given me, and my half helmet with clear glasses. I also grabbed my old frogg toggs pants to give to Jake to ride in. I had lost the jacket that went with them one day on my ride to work when my saddlebag had flown open.

It was raining when I left the house on my V-Star 1100 Classic. I rode two blocks before turning around to go back home to switch to my full face helmet. That done I headed to Jakes house on the other side of Bedford. As I pulled up he was in the garage to greet me and he put on my old frogg toggs pants and his mesh jacket with water proof liner. Before we left I told him we had no time deadlines and take it easy on the speed going down to Cresson figuring he local authorities new which days the races were as well. He would lead and I would follow him.

Jake put on his Bell Full-face and fired up his Kawasaki Vulcan 750 and we left Bedford Texas and headed down westbound 183 Airport Freeway towards Fort Worth where we hopped on I35W heading south with the rain stinging my unprotected hands. A little ways down we pulled over for refueling. It was still raining and very gloomy out. I dug out the camera and snapped a picture while there. After we both filled up I packed up the camera again and we headed south again. It was still raining.

Then we picked up I20 headed east as the rain seemed to pick up a little. We rode I20 to Benbrook where we headed south on 377. The sky just kept getting darker and darker and the rain was increasing in intensity. I could feel the sting of the cold raindrops through the frogg toggs. The black carpeting of clouds covered us and occasionally I thought I heard thunder and saw lightning off in the distance.

Jake reported later that he thought he saw a wall cloud off to our left trying to shape into a tornado. The rain was coming down with so much ferocity now that you could not see the white lines on the road. I noticed it looked like he was following some of the other vehicles a little closer than he should be considering the weather and made a mental note to mention it to him later.

Then the rain let up a little and we were in Cresson. We found the road off to the left going to the racetrack and followed it up to the gate. It was still raining. The people at the gate said to come back after the rain stops so we left to search out a dry spot. My feet and boots were soaked by now and I was sure Jake was probably in worse shape. Cresson was not much of a city but we found a Subway restaurant open so we turned in there.

We walked into the Subway dripping wet taking off our helmets while the young guy at the counter just looked at us like we were crazy. We apologized for the water we dripped everywhere and ordered some breakfast things that actually turned out to not be that bad. We sat down at the table to talk while the food was prepared and Jake was worse off than me for sure. Water has gotten under his jacket from the bottom side and had wicked underneath his frogg toggs pants and his blue jean pants were soaked. He had on a pair of waterproof hiking boot type shoes but that did not keep water from splashing in over the top and they held the water in. He went into the restroom to drain the water out of his boots.

We ate our food and talked while watching the few vehicles going by on 377. While we contemplated our next move we saw an ambulance, lights a flashing, speeding by. Foreshadowing perhaps? We stayed there for a little over an hour watching the huge storm over the internet on our phones. The storm looked like it was not in any hurry to get by and was massive in size and severity so we decided to head home.

We donned all our soggy gear again and left the cover of the Subway restaurant venturing back out into the storms teeth to head for home. I felt goose bumps building on my forearms because it was considerably cooler out now making me wish I had my mesh jacket and liner on underneath my frogg toggs. It was still raining as we headed north on 377. It was then I remembered that I had forgotten to tell Jake to allow more distance between himself and the traffic in front of him, not that this would have made any difference in the outcome later.

As we got closer to Burleson the rain slowed down a little and the traffic increased. The further north we went the cooler it got as well. The frequency of traffic lights increased the closer we got into Burleson as well.

This is where things started to unravel ….

To Be Continued…..


Ride on,

Torch



Atlas Rider is Heading to South America

 

Atlas Rider is Heading to South America

A fellow Blogger and Rider, Bill Dwyer from Atlas Rider, is preparing to head out on a trek by motorcycle through and around South America. Bill will be video-documenting his trip on YouTube. All the details can be found below in Bills official press release:


Contact: Bill Dwyer
Tel: 708-280-9115
Email: dwyer.bill@gmail.com
Website: http://www.atlasrider.com/


TRAVELING OFF THE GRID, ON YOUTUBE

A motorcycle journey through Latin America documented on YouTube

On August 15th Bill Dwyer sets off for an eight month trip that takes him from America to Argentina, spanning over 20 countries and 25,000 miles. Without a cellphone, and infrequent internet access he will no longer always be "connected" or "on the grid." He travels alone, but brings along a virtual audience for the ride through documenting his journey on YouTube.

As a software developer, Bill grew weary of his corporate job. He sold most of his belongings and traded his cubical for the open road. Food, gas and shelter will be his only concerns. No more timelines to follow or deadlines to meet, only serendipity creates the destiny of his road map.

Perceptions of Mexico and Latin American countries as a seething breeding ground of violence have been widespread. Bill believes that people and the world around us are not as dangerous as we sometimes are lead to believe. The success of his journey should prove to be a reminder that among a seemingly hostile world there is still some good out there.

Bill is an avid adventure motorcyclist and blogger for 3 years. He has built up an audience from all walks of life and continues to entertain, educate and inspire them to take the plunge and seek out adventures of their own.


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Here is the link where Bill made his blog announcement: http://www.atlasrider.com/?p=1234

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If you would like more information about Bill Dwyer's journey you can visit http://www.atlasrider.com/, or to schedule an interview with him, he can be contacted at 708-280-9115 or by email at dwyer.bill@gmail.com.

So, go visit Atlas Rider and get signed up to follow along on his journey. Bill is on all the social medias so hook up with him and tell him Torch sent ya!

Ride on,
Torch

Ride to McGehee Catfish Restaurant Part 2

I got to the McGehee Catfish Restaurant early to take pictures and I was the first of many that arrived and waited for them to open for lunch. Unfortunately, I’m not much of a photographer and forgetting to check the cameras settings the photos turned out too dark because I think it was on the close up setting. The restaurant exterior was made of rough weathered wood and had a wood shingle roof and had an old log cabin feel to it. There was some type of pine trees scattered around it ad a nice breeze blowing through that helped with the heat. The parking lot is fine gravel so I advise taking it slow and cautious. The lettering on the door stated Weekdays 5 p.m. – 9 p.m. Saturday & Sunday 1 p.m. – 9 p.m. Closed Wednesdays.

The first elderly couple to arrive after me came in a white car with Texas plates. I asked them if they had eaten hear before and if it was good. They had and I said that must mean it was good if they came back again. While we stood around in the shade enjoying the cooling breeze we chatted and they told me how you used to be able to look out into the river area and see the catfish farms where the restaurant used to raise there own.

One older gentleman rode on a Suzuki Burgman 650 with a buddy on a burgundy Honda VTX1300. We chatted about the bikes and the scooter. The VTX owner bragged about how much better the ride quality was since he installed a new Mustang seat. Before he said it was like riding a log. The Burgman owner stated that even the 400 model would be a good first scooter and bragged about the large cargo space under the seat. He claims when grocery shopping he can fit five grocery bags under there. He said they run great at highway speeds as well. They also mentioned that the airstrip next door had been closed down a few years before. People used to fly in for lunch or diner here. Before long the restaurant doors were being unlocked.

I went in and the hostess said we could seat ourselves. I took a spot in the main room in a corner by the window at a small table. You could look out the window behind the restaurant and see the Red River in the distance. Inside the restaurant was decorated rustic country style with old antique farming utensils and tools hung on the rough out dark wood slat walls. The waitress showed up shortly and asked what I would like to drink and did I want the catfish. I responded water with lemon and yes to the catfish. She came back shortly with some coleslaw, sweet pickled green tomatoes, and hushpuppies. The hushpuppies were too hot to bite into yet so I started in on the slaw and tomatoes.

The eating utensils were packaged and at the table in a holder as well as a roll of paper towels to clean your hands with. The coleslaw was good and not too sweet. It was diced up to a real fine consistency, the finest I had ever seen. I had never tasted sweet pickled green tomatoes before but they were excellent. They tasted like a sweet pickle and had a slight spicy hotness to them. Note to self; look for these in the store. The hushpuppies finally cooled down and I sampled them. They were not too big and you could tell they were freshly made and quite tasty. I texted a status report to my better half and about that time the main course arrived.

The main course was three large pieces of farm raised catfish deep fried with a crunchy cornmeal coating. The waitress asked if I needed anything else and since there was already ketchup on the table I asked for some tarter sauce which she quickly brought out in a condiment squeeze bottle. Along with the amazing fish were the French fries. So many French fries that they were heaped on the plate and falling off as the waitress set the plate down, in fact. These weren’t ordinary fries either. They tasted like freshly cut with skin on and fried to a golden crispiness. They were a great compliment to the catfish and I used the ketchup liberally. The waitress asked me several times if I wanted more catfish since it was all you could it but, even though I had not eaten any breakfast, because I was so hot I did not have my normal appetite and I turned her down.

The feeding frenzy was over and it was time to go. I tossed a five spot down for my attentive waitress, took one last drink of water, and proceeded to check out. The food was great however I would have preferred my catfish a little moister inside. If you like yours real crispy you would have loved it. I went outside, rolled my sleeves down, put my gear on and started the ride home.

The ride home was rather uneventful. I rode straight through and was trying not to have to stop for fuel. Riding passed 114 on I35 I thought maybe I should take it to 121 to go home but instead I kept going the way I had come. When I got to Western Central Blvd the freeway came to a grinding halt and it was stop-n-go all the way down and around 820 eastbound to just past Rufe Snow. Looking down at the thermometer it was now reading almost 100 degrees.

There was a half mile reprieve and then where 820 merges with 183 Airport Freeway it stopped again and was backed up just as far as I could see. I managed to make it over to the Precinct Line exit and turned left and then right into the Quick Trip and refueled. Not wanting to get back into the traffic on the freeway I took Harwood the rest of the way home. Walking inside my house it was almost 4:00 pm. It felt grate to be home and I headed to the shower to cool off reflecting on what a great time I’d had.

If you missed part one of this ride, please check out Ride to McGegee Catfish Restaurant Part 1.

Ride on,
Torch

Ride to McGehee Catfish Restaurant Part 1

It was Saturday 8-29-2009 as I backed out my garage in Bedford Texas and was on my way with a sense of adventure gleaming n my eye. I had my IPod Nano playing 615 songs randomly through my Ink’d earphones. I glanced at the Yamaha V-Stars’ trip odometer and I only had 34 miles on this tank. No need to stop for gas before leaving, I thought to myself. The ambient temperature thermometer mounted on my handlebars read 80 degrees Fahrenheit and felt nice and cool as I rode away. I was leaving on my motorcycle ride to Marietta Oklahoma and specifically to McGehee Catfish Restaurant for lunch.

On my head I was wearing a cotton dew rag under my HJC Helmet, and my Oakley sunglasses. I had on a pair of blue jeans, a full sleeve cotton shirt, (with the sleeves pushed up over my elbows), my black leather FMC vest, and my Bates boots. I decided to use the crumby FieldSheer gloves; I might as well get as much use out of them as I can, before they completely fall apart. This trip I also remembered to coat all exposed surface areas with 45 SPF sun-screen, so as not to become a sacrifice to the sun gods this trip. For the record I should have re-applied before riding home, my face and nose did get some red.

For personal protection I had my Springfield XD .40 Subcompact in a C-TAC holster inside my right waistband, my Kel-Tec P3AT .380 in my left vest inside upper pocket, and my Kershaw Leek pocket knife in my left front pocket. Too bad I didn’t have room for my Smith and Wesson Boot Knife in these Bates boots, oh well. I had my phone, a Palm Treo, in my right vest pocket and along with a pair of compact reading glasses stashed away with my P3AT it allowed me to post updates of my ride on Twitter. In a pinch I could also throw it at an attacker, or just throw it like I’ve wanted to do on occasion. I wondered; does this vest make me look fat? I probably looked like a cross between one of the characters in the movie Wild Hogs and one of the personalities from the TV show Sons of Anarchy.

I hopped on 121 Southbound, hung a right onto 183 West continued onto 820 West before turning north on I35 W. Before long I was passing Texas Motor Speedway on the left and then the University of North Texas on the right. I was in Denton. I decided to stop and get a drink and refuel Mistress. I topped off the tank with unleaded, downed a Red Bull, texted my wife and was off heading north on I35 again.

I was making good time traveling at ~~ mph. I did manage to keep it under triple digits, barely. There were a lot of other motorcyclists out going the opposite direction and I tried to wave or acknowledge them all. I was passed by someone with Oklahoma plates in a hurry to get home, so I tucked right in behind them. You will be pleased to know that I did see one Texas State Trooper en-rout to Oklahoma. Fortunately, everyone had slowed down with the tell tale brake lights warning everyone. He was parked off the right shoulder down in a ditch or culvert and there was an 18 wheeler between us anyway. Before I knew it I was on the bridge going over the Red River and passing a large Welcome to Oklahoma sign on my right. Casino anyone?

It wasn’t much longer and I had arrived at exit 32 and was in Marietta. It is about 100 miles from my house to Marietta and the ride took around an hour and a half. I pulled into the McDonalds, parked and went in to get something to drink. I sat down and enjoyed an iced coffee with caramel while I texted my wife, got to check in with the boss, and checked my phones Google Maps GPS and indeed I was exactly where I thought I was. After that it was time to take a short tour through town.

I drove through downtown Marietta and tried not to blink so as not to miss it. Then I came back around coming down a side street and saw a museum. I had time to kill so I stopped in. It turned out it was the Love County Historical Society Pioneer Museum. They had an interesting mix of antiques, historical records and photos all dealing with Marietta and Love County. The volunteer on duty went out of his way to tell me some of the history of Marietta, including some interesting stories and strange characters as well as pointed out items of historical interest. After some time of browsing, visiting, and emailing my wife photos of some of the antique quilts it was time to leave.

I had asked directions to McGehee Catfish Restaurant to make sure I was headed in the right direction and decided to take a ride out there to scout it out even though they were not open for lunch yet. So I continued heading west and turned south on US77 which parallels I35 and then east on E2150 / McGehee RD which dead ends at the restaurant. Most of the Google Maps are incorrect, unless you look for the one that says Airport: McGehee Catfish Restaurant; the restaurant is at the dead end, not in the city of Marietta itself.

The restaurant scouted out I rode back to the town and walked around several stores to kill time until they opened for lunch at 1:00pm. After drinking a Monster energy drink at the Carl Jr.’s, texting my wife again, and browsing some of the local stores, I filled Mistress up at the Valero and headed back to McGehee’s noting that it had gotten a lot warmer, hot in fact, outside. A glance at the temperature reading showed it was now in the mid 90’s.


Ride on,
Torch

Day Ride to Dublin Texas

Day Ride to Dublin Texas

My wife’s uncle invited me to go on a ride with some of the members of his church. They were going to be leaving from North Richland Hills Baptist Church after a Leading Man Breakfast meeting this past Saturday morning. So, I was up early Saturday getting my V-Star 1100 ready for the ride. I tightened up the slightly leaking oil line fittings going to the Oil Relocation Kit filter housing and put the half quart of Amsoil left over from the recent oil change in the saddlebag. Then I added a small tool kit and organized the contents of the saddlebags a little better. Lastly I gave her a much needed bath.

I draped myself in my leather boots, chaps and jacket and headed to my wife’s uncles house. It was very overcast and there was some slight sprinkling going on here and there. I put on my riding sunglasses with the yellow lenses which brighten up dreary days making it look like a sunny day. The forecast was for 30% scattered showers and lots of wind. I had checked the news radar before leaving and all the heavy precipitation, thunder storms, was to the west of D/FW. I was not sure at that time which direction we were going to be riding in.

I stopped and filled up the fuel tank on the way to my wife’s uncle’s house. I arrived and he got his riding vest on and backed his Honda Goldwing out of the garage and we were headed to the church to meet up with the other riders stopping on the way to fuel up the Goldwing. The bikes were all lined up in a row and we were now ready to go. I found out there were a total of five of us going on this ride and we were headed to Dublin Texas.

We had an interesting collection of motorcycles going on this ride. The lead bike was a brand new Yamaha V-Max. What a beautiful piece of technology, it literally purred when started. He was followed by a Honda Goldwing, my V-Star 1100, another Honda Goldwing and riding drag was a Suzuki Volusia. I put on my Airflow gloves and we rode out of town staggered fashion and headed west. We battled the normal Saturday morning traffic as the winds picked up enough to keep you on your toes.

We made our way through Fort Worth and ended up headed East on Interstate 20 to 281, where we stopped for fuel. I was glad I still had my leathers on because it was still cool in the late morning. After refueling we headed south on 281 and from there I completely lost track of the directions, and just enjoyed the ride.

The ride down was refreshing. I’m sure we did not take the most direct route because for the most part there was not much traffic and we turned onto other roads several times. There were a lot of twists and turns which made the ride fun. The scenery was gorgeous, Texas farmland, the start of the Texas Hill Country, huge beautiful older homes with wrap around porches, antique cars, Texas Longhorn cattle, dairy farms, goat farms, old buildings and barns. The odor from the dairy farms is one memory I do not relish.

We arrived in Dublin to get stuck in a long line of traffic. It tuned out that we had arrived just after the Cowboy Culture Celebration Parade. The proof was on the ground in the road left over from the horses and added another element of dodging to the mix. We turned off a side street and parked across the street from Old Doc’s Soda Shop. The Texan sun was starting to come out a little now and it was starting to heat up so I removed my leather chaps and stored them in my saddle bag. In the field next to Old Doc’s there was a line of horsemen that, after looking at the itinerary later, must have been the Ft. Hood Mounted Calvary.

It was 11:55 AM when we went into Old Doc’s for lunch. We had traveled a little over 103 miles from North Richland Hills, according to someone’s GPS, to get to Dublin for lunch. I had a smoked turkey sandwich and a large Dr. Pepper. Of course, real Dr. Pepper made with the original recipe and Imperial Pure Cane Sugar, is what Dublin is famous for. And Old Doc’s, serves them up hand mixed, soda jerk style. Several riders had another soda bar specialty, Frosty Peppers, a Dr. Pepper float made with another Texan favorite, Blue Bell Vanilla ice cream. The food and drinks were very good and the small town nostalgia made for excellent ambience.

We did not stay around for any of the tours this trip. I will have to make a trip back for that though. Lunch over we geared up and hit the trail. I decided to ride without my gloves, which later may have proved to be a mistake. I switched to my Oakley sunglasses for the ride back because the sun was out some. Honestly, I’m not even sure we took the same route back or not.

The ride back was fairly uneventful. We stopped one time for fuel. The wind had picked up and it was pretty bad. It was a constant struggle the keep the bikes upright. You would lean into the wind and then it would suddenly die down and you had to quickly correct your lean again. Some of the gusts were extremely strong and we battled this all the way home. It made for a tiring very ride and I was exhausted when I arrived home at 3:30 PM.

After getting my leather jacket off and getting a cold glass of ice water, it slowly became apparent that this fair skinned large guy had forgotten one important item for my trip, suntan lotion. The exposed strip on my forehead, my face from below my sunglasses, my neck, earlobes, and the backs of my hands from my knuckles to a couple inches above my wrists were all turning bright red. I looked like a reversed exposure raccoon. I quickly applied sunburn lotion to all burned areas.

There were several other interesting side effects of this ride. First my rear end was very saddle sore not being used to being in the saddle for such an extended period of time. Even with a Corbin seat, I am no Iron Butt, that’s for sure. Both my hands had a slight buzzing sensation to them, like when you have held a vibrating object for too long. This and the sunburn is where those gloves may have helped. For awhile I thought I might get a blister on the inside edge of my right thumb, from gripping the handgrips so tightly, but it did not blister up. My ears were a little deaf from the wind, road noise and my Cobra exhaust. Also, despite using my cruise control on occasion, my right wrist and forearm were very soar from twisting the throttle so much, something I really enjoy doing.

We saw a lot of other motorcyclists on our 220 mile ride and I tried to wave when I saw them in time and it was safe to do so. We also encountered a lot of local police and State Trooper vehicles, most of which had travelers already pulled over. I learned a lot about riding in a group and my limitations on this trip. I also learned to plan a little better for the trip, like using SPF 99 sun block. There are also a couple pieces of equipment and accessories for the bike I would like to get that would make longer rides more enjoyable. Things like a cup holder would be nice. I forgot to pack my digital camera so the photos were taken with my Palm Treo phone. I can’t wait to get back to Dublin the try one of those Frosty Peppers at Old Doc’s Soda Shop and take a tour of the museum and the Dr. Pepper plant.

Ride on,
Torch