I live just east of Toronto, and the best way to get into the USA is to travel across Toronto, around the west end of Lake Ontario, and down to Buffalo. This is not a pleasant drive, since it's all expressway, and involves a lot of urban traffic snarl. Rush hour on a weekday extends from about 7:00am to just after 9:00am, so I opted to leave at 9:00.
The weather is nearly warm, about 15C (60F), and I start with a polar fleece top under the Aerostich suit, and it's quite comfy. Two hours later I'm filling the gas tank at the border, and then I'm across the bridge and heading south. Highway 219 starts just south of Buffalo, and runs well down into the Blue Ridge Mountains, and consists of a patchwork of roads connected by various means. It starts with an expressway that runs south about 20 miles, and is completely straight, flat, and boring. It's also heavily patrolled, so everyone is afraid to go over 55mph. But finally I get to where 219 reverts to a 2-lane road, and stop for lunch right at noon. Storm clouds start to brew up while I'm eating, and the temperature is approaching 80 by now. As soon as I get back on the road, I encounter a police roadblock, at which an officer comes over, looks at my back (I think), and tells me to go ahead. Weird.
The road is enjoyable as it gets more scenic and more twisty, and there are lots of little towns, which provide entertainment but also take up time. It sprinkles on me three separate times over the next hour, but it's barely enough to get wet, and actually feels good in the rising heat, and smells great! I cross into Pennsylvania at 1:30. Soon after there is a bank thermometer in one little town that reads 91 degrees! About 3:00 I stop at an ice cream place in Brockway, and while I'm cooling off and stretching out some kinks, there's 2 little kids hanging around while their mother explains that they're "obsessed" with motorcycles. It was so cute when I got ready to go, and they're standing there with their fingers in their ears.
I wasn't making good time, and was relieved when 219 opened up into 4 lanes and the speed limit went to 65mph. Originally I had hoped to get to the bottom of PA, but now I was aiming for Ebensburg. When I got there, I thought I might as well go on to Johnstown, and next thing I knew I was in Somerset, just a few miles from the Maryland border. Original goal achieved! Somerset is just off the Pennsylvania Turnpike, so there was a gaggle of hotels. At first the Ramada looked good, then the Holiday Inn, but they're both probably too expensive, so I headed for Super 8 and got a room with free breakfast and HBO for $39. However, at about 10:30pm, we had a complete power failurethat lasted for 3 hours. I just gave up and went to bed (after brushing my teeth by flashlight), and of course everything came on again after I had fallen asleep.
I covered 648km. and the bike ran like a charm. I can't wait for tomorrow, because 219 gets to be real fun once it goes into West Virginia. Stay tuned...
After getting to bed so early due to the blackout, it follows that I was up and raring to go at 6:00am. My left ankle, which I had twisted a few days before, was showing some interesting coloration, but was not painful. The weather report was for sunny and warm, so I went with summer gear (shorts and t-shirt under the 'stich).
As I was prepping the bike, I noticed that the clutch master cylinder fluid was down about 2/3 of the way from max to min. (Cue the ominous music!) First thought was leaky slave cylinder, as had happened before on my Monster, but I wasn't sure because the area was already a bit gooey from lubing the chain just before leaving home. Reasoning that as long as the clutch was working, and the fluid was still above the min line, I would just go easy on it and worry about it if the fluid level dropped further, or other problems developed.
Just south of Somerset on 219, there is a really cool twisty section that definitely got my juices flowing. Then it dumps out onto an expressway into Maryland. Just before boredom really sets in, I was being welcomed into "wild, wonderful" West Virginia, and 219 turned into the sort of snaky smooth 2-laner that I had come for. Yee-haw! West Virginia is such a jewel. The roads are well kept, and are built over and around obstacles rather than blasting through them, and the defenders of public safety are seldom seen.
I had a great time for a couple of hours, then stopped for lunch in Elkins. My goal for the day was to reach a buddy's place in Buena Vista, and it looked like time was going to be no problem. The clutch fluid level hadn't changed, so everything seemed to be coming up roses.
Then it was back onto 219, and just flowing down the highway, grinning from ear to ear, while a little voice in the back of my head said, with an Italian accent of course, "I told you I could make you happy; you've never known anyone like me." Italian mistresses: demanding but worth the effort. Eventually I got down to Marlinton after going though an especially incredible section just north of town. Then 39 took me east toward Buena Vista, and that turned out to be another VERY FUN road. I wasn't sure if the shifting was a bit notchy, or whether I was imagining it. Soon I forgot about the clutch as I swooped through one set of curves after another.
As I got closer to my goal, I realized I had no clear instructions on getting to my friend Charlie's house. I had been there before, coming in from the Parkway, but this time I was approaching from the other direction. I had a GPS and a waypoint, which would lead me toward the house, but not necessarily tell me which roads connected to which. Well, I finally got there, and we had a fine big dinner of thick steak with all the goodies. Charlie had a new album by The Persuasions, which is an a capella singing group that sounds almost gospel. Normally that's not my cup of tea, but this album is entirely songs done by Frank Zappa. Try to imagine an a cappella gospel group singing Lumpy Gravy, and you'll have the idea!
Only 470km covered today, but they were high-quality ones. Day 1 was "setting the table". I thought Day 2 was the main course, but in retrospect it was only the appetizer. Can it get better than this?
Today was officially the first day of the rally, and we could plan to roll in anytime from noon onwards. I took my time getting up and getting ready, and didn't get on the road until a little after 10:00am. What the heck, I'm on vacation, eh? It was already sunny and hot, and felt like a full fledged summer day. I said my goodbyes to my friends, and headed for the Parkway, just a few miles away.
It would probably take 3 to 4 hours to get to Mt. Airy along the Parkway, so I was in no hurry. What can I say about the Blue Ridge Parkway? It's probably the best make-work project a government has ever done. The resulting road, following the peaks of the mountains, is just so beautiful, so scenic, so much fun to drive... well, words fail me. I stopped for a break and had a nice conversation with a passing hiker, an earnest young man who was in the midst of walking the entire Appalachian trail. My clutch fluid was holding steady, the clutch seemed to be working fine, and the world was my oyster!
About 50 miles from Mt. Airy, I wasn't sure if I could make it on fuel, so when I saw a gas station just off the Parkway, I decided to fill up. As I came around the ramp, I got down to third gear, and couldn't get the transmission to shift any lower! Uh-oh! I got to the stop sign, then tried to move, and stalled it. It started up, and I got it down another gear, but stalled again. The clutch was engaging just millimeters off the handlebar. I spent about 5 minutes just trying different things, and I finally got it down to 1st gear. Sitting there with the motor running and the clutch in, I could feel the bike trying to creep forward, and I knew I was in trouble. I got going without stalling, and went the couple hundred feet to the gas pump in front of a hokey souvenir store, and filled up. After paying, I went out to the bike with great trepidation, thinking that if I could just get to the rally, someone would know what to do. To my great surprise, it started up, went into gear, and I pulled away with no problem! The clutch still engaged right at the handlebar, and it was shifting like an old Harley, but at least I was mobile.
The next challenge came as I got to Mt. Airy. I realized I had forgotten the instructions on how to get to the motel where the rally was headquartered, and where I had reserved a room for myself. In fact, I didn't even remember which motel it was! Doh! As I came into town, I saw three Ducs going the other way, which was a good omen. I saw billboards for Comfort Inn and Hampton Inn on the same road, so I decided to check them out, and ask if they knew of a Ducati rally. When I got to the Comfort Inn, there were half a dozen Ducs sitting in the parking lot, so I was pretty sure this was the place. Whew!
I got checked into my room, and talked to the guys hanging around, and asked anybody who would listen, about my clutch. The Prez of the DOCC was there, and he looked at it, and opined that it probably just needed a good bleeding. Well I know how to do that, so I relaxed a little, and spent some time de-bugging the bike. Groups of bikes were coming and going on rides, so there were lots of distractions. Then Jim Calandro, the ride-master, returned from his ride, and set up registration in the conference room. We all got our tee-shirts, and route maps, and awards banquet tickets, and then the pizza arrived, and we all got fed.
There were a lot of trailers there, and I was feeling pretty good about having ridden all the way down from Canada, a total of 1413 km. If I could get my clutch working tomorrow, I might even get home again!
Today was to be the "meat" of the rally. Yesterday's jaunt down the Blue Ridge Parkway was, in my meal analogy, like a fine bowl of french onion soup served before the entree. But today was the main course, with an all day planned ride, and an awards banquet in the evening.
I was up at 7:00am, and down to the main building for the complimentary continental breakfast, then back to the room for the "basics", and to plan strategy. I had to wait for the auto parts store to open, so while everyone else was preparing for the ride, I took pictures and helped people wherever I could. The guy with the '74 750 was having electrical problems, and I'm sure having me watch was a great help. <g> At the last moment, Jim Calandro decided his Allazurra was running on one cylinder, so he did a quick spark plug change, and that fixed it.
We all pulled out together, except that the group went right, and I went left, to the store. I got some brake fluid and a little bleeder kit for under $10 and went back to the now-deserted motel, feeling sorry for myself. You might ask why I didn't do all this on Friday, and believe me I was asking myself the same thing! Back at the room, the procrastination bug hit, and I decided to call home to check in with the wife. We talked for an hour (absence really does make the heart grow fonder) and then I finally went out to do the deed.
I wrapped shop cloths around everything to protect the paint from the deadly brake fluid, then filled the reservoir, and pumped most of it through. When I refilled the reservoir, a big air bubble blurped up from the depths. Then I carefully did several squirts through the system, releasing a series of small bubbles at the slave cylinder. At this point, I felt the clutch lever, and it felt normal again! Woo-hoo! So I buttoned everything down again, and just as I was finishing, thinking about the great ride I was missing, and wondering if I could catch up to them; I heard a voice behind me: "Have the others left for the ride yet? I had to rush my wife to the airport, and I'm late." Well talk about yer good karma! Here was Jeff (Geoff?) with his daughter and a big shiny Guzzi, and I had a riding partner!
We decided to ride the route, but short-circuit it so as (hopefully) to meet up with the others on the return leg. Needless to say, the route was fantastic. Mr. Calandro knows his backroads apparently, and we had a great ride. There was a memorable moment when I was following the Guzzi. We were on a back-back-back road, and came to a sharp right-hand switchback that rose up, crested in the middle of the turn, then dove downwards again. Just as I was going up to the apex, out of the corner of my eye I saw Jeff's helmet moving right to left. It took me a split-second to realize what was happening, and sure enough, just over the crest of the right-hander was about 100 feet of downhill, then a sharp left-hand switchback at the bottom. I was grateful for the advance warning provided by the helmet sighting, or I would have had a major butt-clenching moment.
Just as we came out to the return road where we hope to meet the others, several bike zoomed past, and we couldn't believe our fortuitous timing. We chased them for a few miles to a gas station, where we all pulled in. As I sat waiting for the gas pump, I didn't recognize anyone, then I realized that we had joined the wrong group of bikes! These were all rice-burners! They said they had seen some Ducatis, though, and they weren't too far behind. Sure enough, in a few minutes a group of Ducs pulled in, and we were back in synch.
All told, I rode about 2/3 of the route, and covered 330km, getting back to the motel at 5:00pm, just as it started to rain! Dinner was at 7:00pm at the Elks Hall. The food was good and Italian, the company was even better, and I got my first-ever long-distance award! Back at the hotel, the Toronto Maple Leafs playoff hockey game was on the tube, and the Leafs won with a dramatic last minute goal, so I went to sleep with a big smile on my face.
Today was a long hard day. When I awoke in the morning, and went down to the office for breakfast, it was immediately apparent that the weather had changed. A cold front had come through the night before, causing the rain, and it was cold, gloomy and overcast. I had a nice breakfast, and chatted with a few of the guys, and said our goodbyes.
I felt good and got ready, and was actually on the road at 8:45! Wow! I needed gas, and was worried that all the stations would be closed on Sunday morning, but once I crossed into VA, (and it got past 9:00), I found an open one. Then I got on the BRP, and just rode and rode. It's about 200 miles from where I got on, until the end at Waynesboro, and I enjoyed every minute and every curve. But it was cold, especially at the elevations of the Parkway. I had started out with my polar fleece top on, but had to stop and switch to the down-filled vest. Ahhhh! I stopped for gas at the one gas station on the Parkway, and 2 guys with Beemers were admiring my bike (of course). It seemed like it would rain at any second, but it never did. At times I was driving through low clouds, and that's when it would get really cold. Just as I would think that I couldn't stand it any more, it would warm up a little, and I'd get a reprieve. The good news is that due to the lousy weather, there was hardly any traffic, even on a Sunday.
I had the option of taking 3 days to get home, and explore some backroads, or getting on the superslab, and reaching home in 2 days. I still wasn't sure which way to go when I got to Waynesboro and the end of the Parkway. I stopped for lunch at 1:30pm, and listened to my weather radio. They seemed pretty certain that a slow moving front would arrive late the next day, and helped me decide to go for it and get home early. I figured if I could make Harrisburg PA today, then I could still do some backroad scratching if the weather forecast changed. So I got on I-81 and I droned and droned and droned some more. Interstates ain't much fun, but ya sure can make time.
I hit Harrisburg at 6:00pm, but couldn't find a good place to stop. I ended up heading north of the city and finding even less, so I doubled back and went to a Quality Inn whose sign I had seen. The whole place was run by Mexicans, and was overpriced at $69, but the desk guy let me park right outside the front door where he could keep an eye on the bike all night. Nice. The a/c in the room didn't work at all, the bedside lamp was missing a light bulb, and the in-room coffee maker still had the dregs from the last tenant. Complaining about all this in the morning got me a 30% discount! The people on the weather channel predicted that rain would hit Buffalo the following afternoon, so I decided to try to beat it, and get home.
Riding up the Parkway was dessert, and I-81 was indigestion!
Woke up early, anxious to get on the road. The weather channel showed a weather front with lots of rain hitting Buffalo by late afternoon. I figured if I was lucky, I'd get through Buffalo and around the western end of Lake Ontario before it got there. At least I was gonna try!
Skipped breakfast since a trip to the restaurant would take too long. I was going to take advantage of the "in-room" coffee, but discovered that the coffee maker hadn't been cleaned after its last usage, so I skipped that as well. Got on the road at 8:30am. The temperature was 47 F.
Ever notice that when you're most fired up and in a hurry to make some time, that's when the construction appears? As I headed north out of Harrisburg on 11/15, it was solid construction. I didn't even notice how cold it was because I was going so slow! At one point a line of traffic (including me) followed a grader at exactly 20 mph for 20 minutes. But finally things cleared out and I got to cruise, noticing for the first time just how bitterly cold it really was. Thank goodness I brought that down-filled vest along!
About 11:00am I decided to stop for an early lunch, and pulled into a town called Mansfield. As I'm eating, I'm already plotting out what time I'm going to hit Toronto so I can try to avoid rush hour. The manager of the Wendy's I'm in, tells me it'll take 4 hours to get to Buffalo. If I take off at noon, I'll hit Toronto at the worst possible time. Oh well.
Well, there's not much else to tell. The drive was uneventful. The clutch has been working great, as has the rest of the bike. I got to the duty-free store at the Peace Bridge in Buffalo at 2:15pm, so that Wendy's manager didn't know what he was talking about. Got my duty-free bottle of Southern Comfort, and crossed the border at 2:30pm. Funny thing though, when I stopped at the border it was sunny and HOT. I briefly considered changing my clothes because I was too hot, but decided not to waste time. Twenty minutes later as I got close to Lake Ontario, I was freezing again! It's weird sometimes how much temperature variation you can get within a small distance. As I cruised west toward the end of Lake Ontario, I couldn't help but think how wrong the weather people had been, since there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Five minutes later, I started to see a line of cloud building from the western horizon. Whoops, guess they were right after all. Pulled in the driveway at home at exactly 5:00pm with the odometer reading 19196 for a total distance of 3245 km. It started to rain about 3 hours later, and rained all the next day.
My calculated mileage for the entire trip was 48.9 mpg (American gallons).
Final thoughts: What a great trip! The ST2 gives me the comfort to rack up some real mileage, but is still fun to ride on gnarly backroads with the sporty crowd. Can't wait for my next outing, the Duc weekend in New Hampshire.