Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by Hondarider, Aug 10, 2016.
Awesome already and you haven't left yet.
In for the OCD ride report! Oh, and so you know, Harley guys, well at least most of them, have no issues with drinking and then getting on their bikes. Might want to watch for that, sir.
They don't call it Death Valley for nothin' . Seriously though I get that same feeling you get a lot of the times in crowded places, hate concerts too. But I would give anything to be back in Clemson for gameday again. Maybe its because I lived just up the hill in McCabe dorms, but I think you'll be fine. I'll be following along from East TN, if you roll through the area give me a shout and I'll show you some good twisty roads
We briefly touched upon that topic during our "Riders Meeting" and I didn't get the impression that it would be an issue. They mentioned seeking out accommodations that are in close proximity to local watering holes so that we can walk back to the hotel after dinner and a few beers. I tend to take it pretty easy myself regardless of location.
However...there were a few beers consumed during the meeting...and at least one guy did ride home...so you're probably spot-on in your assessment.
I can't even imagine what's going to transpire at the Clemson game. I assume there will be tailgating of some sort and significant quantities of alcohol present. They probably won't be ready to hit the road for Alabama at 6:00AM the next day.
Wish you well sir. My buddy and I were on a long ride and came upon a Harley bar, hum...wonder what did not fit? Us in our armor? Us, not drinking beer? One is not like the other!
In for this trip. Read the entire Panzer thread you linked to and you have a talent for storytelling! I laughed when reading the post where you electrocuted the screwdriver because while I worked at a nuclear power plant for 31 years the thing that concerned me the most was all the electrical equipment, that stuff will hurt you quick. And I worked an area that over the years I found the other workers to have little to no knowledge of and were more concerned by.... Radiation Protection. Add in a side of Chemistry technician and I think most others thought we were nuts but I didn't mind and it kept me away from that darn electricity.
Damn, 6 September feels like a lifetime from now! Looking forward to reading about your (mis)adventures.
Did I mention that 6 September is my wife's birthday?
"Happy Birthday Honey! Now I've got to go on a 2week vacation with some guys. Would you mind watching the kids while I'm gone? Don't forget to bring out the garbage and mow the lawn while I'm gone."
Yup, that should go over exceptionally well. No chance of trouble there...
That sir, is almost like a suicide mission. At least it would be in my house. More power to you, pulling it off and staying alive to tell about it.
I haven't pulled it off yet. I'm not even confident that I'll be successful. I can see this going 10 different flavors of bad.
God hates a coward.
So, I've never been a sports fan...at least not as a spectator. If I had the talent and ability to be an active participant at a collegiate or professional level, I would certainly do so, but the idea of me, a grown-ass man, watching other grown-ass men play a game just doesn't resonate with me. It's the sitting and watching that I have no interest in. I can appreciate the athleticism and the commitment, but I don't want to sit around eating and drinking...getting fatter by the second...watching other guys pursue their dreams. It doesn't bring me any joy. If anything, I think it would make me feel ashamed. "Why am I sitting here like a lump while those guys down there are doing things?" I'd rather be out...doing...myself. (Not "doing myself"...that's different all together...you're a perv) I'd rather be out chasing my own dreams...pursuing my passions...living...not spectating.
I don't fault guys who love watching sports. That's their "thing" and they're welcome to it. They can recite football stats like I recite favorite roads and trails. They can tell you the names of every team member of 1986 Boston Celtics and I can tell you what motorcycle models were available that year. My interests are no less ridiculous and, if I'm honest with myself, no more valuable. In short, watching sports is just not my thing...that's not even taking into account the whole crowded stadium phobia thing. While I live in Massachusetts, I've never been to Fenway Park, I've never seen the Patriot's play, and the last Celtic that I can remember was Larry Bird. I don't think I've ever even been to a college or high school game. If I had, it was only to meet girls and I have no recollection of the game itself. This Clemson game is going to be a completely new and foreign experience for me. I'll be a fish out of water. Bob can't wait. He doesn't even expect to watch the game. He's going to be busy watching me and hoping for some sort of adverse reaction...snapping pics and sending them back to our coworkers for their amusement...buying overpriced beers and forcing them on me like a kid dumping an entire bottle of vinegar into a baking soda volcano...hoping for a dramatic explosion. The more I protest - the happier it seems to make him. So I'm protesting nonstop.
Little does he know that I've secretly resigned myself to situation and I'm committed to enjoying every minute of it...like a visit to a foreign land where I don't recognize the people, the landscape, the smells, the sounds, or the language. I'm turning this into an adventure unto itself. I'm going to pretend that I'm Robert Fulton...trekking through Asia...encountering an exotic new culture and immersing myself in it for the sake of the experience. It's going to be like One Man Caravan minus the motorcycle.
Remembering the old adage "When in Rome, do as the Romans do"...I've made preparations for this strange new land. I'm hoping the natives won't even notice that I'm amongst them. Maybe I'll even take up with one of their women.
Good stuff Hondarider.........and you're not even riding yet!
Can't wait to read your new adventure as I just spent the rest of the afternoon thoroughly enjoying your adventures with Mike...too bad there's not another trip with him in the future. I'll never understand why some guys put up with women who don't let them (hell, encourage them!) to get away sometimes with their friends...or, at other times, ride with them.
Great writing, you could honestly make a career as a travel writer. Can't you picture it now; riding most days, paid to see different places and provide your unique perspective? What a chore...
I thought I was the only one anal enough to write out a packing list, yet you took it a giant leap beyond...typed out, laminated...mine had to suffice with a sandwich bag. Oh well, my first trip I actually weighed my side cases on the bathroom scale. That got old fast. Apparently, you have never done that. So there.
Just washed and waterproofed my rain suit with the NIKWAX kit. I'm debating over whether a second cycle in the waterproofer will make my suit even more waterproof. I've got a suspicion that this bad boy is not going to meet the swashbuckling style requirements of my HD brethren so it better, at very least, keep me dry so that I can fend off the verbal jabs with the smugness that comes from being completely dry in a monsoon.
I keep imagining myself strolling into that Mississippi bar that Charlie Daniels described in "Uneasy Rider"...strutting in the front door of the Dew Drop Inn..rocking this ridiculous yellow suit...and running into ol' green teeth...
I'm sure that would make for a entertaining read.
I don' think I would bother running your rain suit through a Nikwax wash again, it should be fine. Maybe next time you wash it you can get the Nikwax Softshell Proof, it is a spray-on waterproofing. Your rain suit looks seven feet tall in that picture.
I am not a sports fan either and I don't really understand that culture. I am impressed you will be suiting yourself appropriately to blend in with the locals. It will be great opportunity to people watch. And oh so many people to watch.
The suit is 7 feet tall! It's kinda crazy looking when you see it on the hanger. However, it works out just right when you're in the riding position and the legs still reach all the way to the bottom of your boots. You need full boot coverage when you're out fighting crime with the rest of the cast from the Incredibles.
What that do for the breathing ability of the suit, it can get humid down there and in traffic a sauna.
I remember the Colorado report vividly - I am sooo following this one!
Day 1 of our adventure is supposed to include a Tour of the Harley Davidson factory in York, PA and then we press on to the Baltimore area where Dave and Rick are staying with a friend. Bob and I will have to find accommodations elsewhere. Dave indicated that the town of Westminster was closest to the friend's home so I hit Trip Advisor to make arrangements. Apparently, the lodging options in Westminster are quite slim and, for reasons that I suspect will make themselves evident at some later point, quite cheap. The nicest room in town...at the Best Western...goes for a bargain basement $89 per night. I saw other offerings as low as $54 per night. That's getting down into the "No-Tell Motel" range where you can feel completely comfortable taking part in the most depraved activities...snuff films...organ harvesting...Coprophilia...human trafficking...LARPing...Sudoko puzzles...Macrame'...whatever you're into.
So I made the reservation at the very best establishment in town and I sent a confirmation email over to Bob...I told him that we hit the jackpot...
ground floor room
King sized bed
free shower caps
free hand lotion
He seems uneasy about the accommodations. I think it might be the hand lotion.
Bob is an interesting guy...as I hope to expound upon in excruciating detail as we tour the East Coast. One little "quirk" is his affinity for 45 degree angles. He likes everything to be at 45 degree angles. Everything in his house is at a 45 degree angle...the items on the kitchen counter...the toaster...the TV...his patio furniture...his snowmobile...the overhead heater...his motorcycles...even the refrigerator in his garage. Everything at 45 degree angles...like some alternate version of Rain Man. I hope to capitalize on this "quirk" throughout the trip...placing things at 90 degree angles whenever possible and hoping to get a rise out of him.
In an effort to make him feel better about the single king sized bed at the Best Western, I did assure him that I do enjoy sleeping at a 45 degree angle. I could see that he was torn between his OCD and his homophobia on that one.