Showing posts with label instruction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label instruction. Show all posts

Sunday, October 9, 2016

A Really New Guy

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A couple of weeks ago, I met up with a guy who is just about as new at motorcycling as it gets.  Although John has had his bike for about two years, he has accumulated all of two hundred miles on it thus far.  So he's pretty new at it, I'd say. We went for a ride together the other day -- his longest ever -- and he agreed to write some comments about it here amongst my scribblings.

John just lives around the corner from me, so he might become a regular riding buddy some day.  I hope so.  Right now, though he is in the earliest stages of learning.  I have done a little coaching and instruction by e-mail and a little more while talking with him in person, but riding is something he has not done other than puttering around the roads of our little suburb.  He says he likes that all right, but he really needs to go somewhere that he can experience a bit of speed and some curves. I emphasize that he must always look where he wants to go, one of a paramount rules of riding on two wheels.

He has also not yet taken the Motorcycle Safety Foundation (MSF) Basic RiderCourse.  I have encouraged him to do so, since they cover so many of the basics both in theory and in practice with the coaches watching.  I did, back in late 2007, and I benefited greatly from it.

Oh, I forgot to tell you that his bike is a Honda Rebel just like they use in some of the MSF classes.  This little 250cc beast is an ideal starting bike that is a lot of fun even for more advanced riders.  He bought the bike almost exactly two years ago, and the seller rode it to John's house, since he did not yet have a riding permit.  That sounds familiar.  I did about the same thing when I bought mine seven years before he did.  He says he was surprised that you can get a permit with no riding experience whatsoever.  It does seem odd that you can go out riding on two wheels with just that piece of paper in your pocket, and with no supervision whatsoever.

Actually, it turns out that John had ridden a little bit before buying his Rebel.  His brother owned a Yamaha Seca 750 that John rode some, but John wisely picked something smaller to learn on.  He says he was seeking adventure and wanted to learn a new skill.  Well, a motorcycle can certainly provide adventure and it sure takes skill to do it even close to right.  ...and he was looking for a sense of freedom, excitement, and exclusivity.  Not everybody rides a motorcycle, after all.  I can identify with that.  I feel the same way when I am on the bike.


Anyway, I mapped out a route of less than a hundred miles heading toward the northwest, with our destinations being near Whitewater Falls, one of my favorite places to go.  The roads that lead there have lots of sweeping curves that are good for beginners to learn on.  Here is a map of the route: 

Click here for a larger map.
The return route would be the same.

John was enthusiastic about riding, so we made arrangements to meet the next weekend.

We checked out his bike -- chain tightness and lube, engine oil, and tires.  Everything was in order except the tire pressure and chain lube.  We fixed those in short order, and he learned a little bit about maintenance items that always seem to need doing on almost any motorcycle.

Since he is new to riding, he doesn't have a lot of safety equipment, though he does have a nice full-face helmet.  Here is how he showed up: 


That would not be enough protection in my view, especially for a newbie.  I fixed him up with a suit that I've used myself in the past, though it is a little large on me 'cause I am so skinny.  He fit into it, and was much more ready for the road.  I gave him a set of earplugs, too. 


Yes, that's much better.

I think he thought it was cool, too -- he sent a picture of himself all suited up to his lady friend, who I am sure was impressed by the intimidating biker figure he cut.  Nobody would think him a beginner by the look of him.

Well, he does need to get himself a pair of riding boots.  He had a set of heavy cowboy boots instead, but they served the purpose today.

Come to think of it, there are almost no standard-style motorcycle riders around here who wear full leathers.  Many of them don't wear any protective equipment at all, or maybe a leather jacket and some chaps, and sometimes a shorty helmet.  I hope John doesn't succumb to that bad example.

I remember when I was at the stage John is
.  My then new friend Ryan helped me start through my learning curve during the trip he led me on to Saluda North Carolina, way back in 2009.

I remember too, because of the sensory overload of learning to ride, I couldn’t even remember what gear I was in at first.  Ryan verbally coached me half way through the ride when we stopped for a soda pop, gave me signals on the proper gear selection from his bike as we went, and demonstrated the correct lines though the curves that, for him, were being taken at a painfully slow pace.  I didn't think so at the time.  I thought we were screaming along at a breakneck pace!

I'll try to remember that feeling when we are out riding today.


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Note: The following account includes comments made by the new guy John himself, in bold typeface
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The initial route, leading to the north and west from the town of Pickens, SC on Shady Grove Road and SC-133, is pretty easy, with a few sweeping curves. 


John seems to be doing OK on them, and we continue until we hit SC-11, which is wide and almost straight. We stop at Keowee-Toxaway State Park for a few minutes to be sure John is doing all right.  


My menacing posture in that picture above makes it look like I am giving him what for.  I'm not.  Really. 


He seems to be doing well, and he says that is the case. 
I give him some feedback from my rear view mirror observations, mostly about lane placement in the curves. 

John: During the ride, I tried to focus on applying the practice of making sure to slow appropriately before a curve, looking as far as possible through the end of each curve, taking the largest radius within my lane, and leaning into the curves while maintaining velocity.  There is no doubt that the more I ride, the better I am getting at that.  As with any skill, I think the goal is to develop such proficiency that the act does not require conscious thought.


John said a mouth full in that last sentence.  That is indeed the goal.

A few miles further on, we turn to the north onto SC-130 toward Bad Creek and Whitewater Falls.  This turn is a tight right-hander that sometimes has gravel in it.  Today it doesn’t have any gravel, but I make it a point to go a little slower than usual because of its tightness.  There are several cars at the intersection, making it unnerving for John.  



I watch my rear view mirrors.  He seems to do all right, and he doesn't go wide into the opposite lane. That is a good sign.

SC-130 has many more sweeping curves over the ten miles or so we will travel on it.  Most of them have good sight distance, so the riding is not as difficult as it could be.  The pavement on SC-130 is mostly in good condition, and they did an extensive rebuilding of the roadbed from North Little River Road to the North Carolina state line, so that part is superb.


There were several large dump trucks that pass us in the opposite direction.  Each one buffets us quite a bit, and there is some wind, even when the trucks aren't present. 


John: Traveling on highways at a speed of 55 miles per hour is okay for me, but sometimes I feel buffeted by the wind.  That was the only instance where I had some apprehension.   Maybe a windshield on the bike would help reduce that feeling.  The suit Bucky lent me also seems to help reduce the feeling of traveling at speed -- more so than the jeans I have always used before.

I am not sure why, but we arrive at the Bad Creek Pumped Storage Facility entrance more quickly than I expect.  It has been an enjoyable several miles, and I can imagine how John feels, as I recall my first trip up this road.  I slow rather abruptly for the Bad Creek entrance, and am concerned about my follower, but he does fine and I lead the way in.

We ride down the road of a million tar snakes to the scenic overlook above the powerplant.  


On our way, a deer runs out from the trees just ahead of me on my right, and paces us on the far side of the guardrail for several hundred yards before it finds another place in the woods that suits her.  We had slowed to a crawl when we saw it: We wanted to make sure she didn't dart out in front of us or that her friends were not waiting in ambush for us somewhere.

The scenic overlook comes soon enough; we park the bikes, and take a look around.  The sky is beautiful.  The crystal blue water of Lake Jocassee and the green of the surrounding forests are treats for the eyes.  I point out Lower Whitewater Falls, and as much of the powerplant as we can see from here.  (The operation of the Bad Creek Pumped Storage Powerplant Facility is described in one of my posts from 2009.) 




John: I feel safer wearing the leather suit than I do in jeans and jacket.  I think I need to get some good riding duds. 

I tell him that the suit I am wearing came from a pawn shop probably fifteen years before I started riding.  Somehow, I knew that one day I would ride.  I confess, it is true: I have longed to do this for many years.  It just took me until most of the way through my fifth decade to get started!  As it happens, my suit matches the bike I eventually purchased pretty well. 

After we have drunk in the sights, we saddle up again for the short trip north to Whitewater Falls.  

We reach the falls parking lot and walk the half-mile path to the falls overlook.  Again, the ideal lighting of the day displays the cataract beautifully, though the water flow is low because of the lack of rain.  We linger here, and snap a few pictures. 


We gaze at Lake Jocassee again in the distance on our walk back to the bikes.

I again have 
Déjà vu.  I have been here to the falls many times, but my first time here was somehow special.  I remember it well.

In the parking lot, a boy maybe four or five hears old eyes us.  We stop for a minute and explain that we are Power Rangers.  Just as he thought!  We let him ponder that for a little while, then reveal the real story: That we are riding a couple of motorcycles parked just up yonder.

When we reach the bikes, I describe the next stopping point, only a few miles from here: That "nice surprise" I have written about before.

The exit from the falls parking lot onto 130 is uphill, and requires good brake and clutch technique.  For good measure, it is sloped to the side so there is an extra stretch to get your left foot down at the stop sign.  It sometimes has gravel on it, and the sight distances are not all that long for the speeding vehicles passing by.  Outside of that, it is an easy exit!  Like our sharp turn a while ago onto 130, there isn’t any gravel today, and we get it right coming out, despite the challenges.  John is doing well.  I am proud of him.

We are again on our way, traveling a little bit to the south now.  We take a gentle right onto the Wigington Byway, and in just a few minutes, we spot the surprise overlook on the left. 

It is seldom this clear up here, so this is a chance to view the distant scenery. We can see the string of lakes below us, including Jocassee, Keowee, and Hartwell.

Here is one of us gazing at the scenery: 


Hmmm. I can't remember which of us it was.  Anyway, here is the other one on his way back to his bike: 


John: Bucky, I'm wearing the red suit and you the silver one -- the one that matches your bike.  Remember now?

Oh, that's right. 

When we are riding today, I try to set a good example for John of proper lines and a moderate pace, but a few times I feel that I may have entered a curve a little hotter than I should have for his experience. When we stop, and I debrief him, though, he doesn't let on that I have taken him too fast anywhere.

He is working on proper lane positioning for the curves.  As do most of us in the early stages of riding, he shies away from the road edge in left handers, keeping a bit too near the center line.  His positioning on right handers is pretty good, near the centerline as he should be.  (Remember these are all sweepers today.)

As we continue, I think he is getting the hang of riding. 
He doesn’t have any significant trouble that I can spot in my mirrors, but I expect that he might be feeling a little uncomfortable at times, though I don't detect any panic.  That is a good thing.

There are three or four times when cars come up behind us.  After all, we are going at the speed limit or below, and lots of drivers exceed it.  There are almost no passing zones on 130, so they are following pretty closely, making John nervous.  We pull off the road a few times to let them pass and take the stress off a bit. That is a good advice for any rider.

As we near home, I think through the ride.  John was slow and cautious at the beginning, but as has gained confidence toward the end.  We are tickling the speed limit -- and a little more -- on the last leg.  I will have to council him about the fact that most riders gain confidence faster than they gain skill.  That is easy to overlook until a tight situation develops and the sensory overload turns it into panic.

John:
Like almost any activity, the more you do something, the better you get.  The total round trip was only about 75 miles, but I believe I gained more in terms of training, skill, and experience by going on this longer trip, as opposed to taking numerous shorter trips around town.  It made me feel more comfortable and confident about traveling at higher speeds.

When we are almost back home, we catch up to these three young men on sportbikes.  At least they are wearing helmets and are patriotic.  Outside of that, I would hate to come across them if they took a tumble onto the tarmac.  



John: Certainly, the full body protective suit helps provide a greater comfort level of riding all around.  I'm glad to have it today, compared with those guys who have almost no protection.

We make it home without incident.  ...and there is another debriefing session by that menacing taskmaster: 


Here is a picture of accomplishment and victory (or, possibly, relief) as we arrive at the end of our ride today:


John's closing comments:
  • I wonder if I would feel less buffeting by the wind with a bigger motorcycle or perhaps that windscreen. 
  • I had not previously used ear plugs while riding my motorcycle; but there is no doubt that they help minimize the effect of the senses becoming dulled over time by the wind. 
  • The trip was great because we saw some beautiful sights and it was a gorgeous day. 
  • I have to say, it was also good to be out and about following another rider, so I now see the fun that can be had in riding in a group. 
We had a good time, seeing some of the many great sights God created in our corner of the world, and traveling some of the best motorcycle roads there are anywhere.  I hope I have helped John a little in his riding. We have gone a little over 76 miles today, and by my figuring, he has added almost 40% to his previous mileage on the bike. 

...and thanks again to my mentor Ryan for similarly taking me, a temperamental student, under his wing.  I am trying to pass that along, brother. 

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Other References:

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Smooth



This is about a day trip I took on April 22, 2015 to a favorite nearby road, the Blue Ridge Parkway, where I met a guy from down on the coast of South Carolina who was out on a longer bike adventure. 

He has graciously provided a commentary on his ride that day, his adventure, and on our meeting one another. 

He goes first, and a little further down, I'll give you my perspective.   

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Robert's story:


I recently made a multiple-day trip up to the Gatlinburg Tennessee area from Charleston South Carolina. And what a great ride it turned out to be! Charleston is nice to ride around, scenery is grand, and out to the local beaches like Edisto and Hunting Island are good rides; but there are no elevation changes and mostly straight roads despite looking for the occasional side road with some benders.

This trip was basically starting at the base of the Blue Ridge Escarpment in Pickens, SC and taking the scenic route up to Gatlinburg, then riding as many one lane side roads as I could map for five days. I spent hours zooming in on Google Maps planning the different rides. 

I was going to take my 2009 Moto Guzzi Stelvio purchased new in June of last year.  New?  Yes, it seems that a Guzzi dealer had gone out of business and MGUSA had taken back all the stock. Held the bikes for six years before auctioning them off to other MG dealers. However, when inspecting the bike the night before the trip I noticed the left fork seal was leaking badly! 

I was going to abort the run but had already reserved parking space with Public Storage and a cabin east of Gatlinburg. Fortunately, I have another ride, a 2011 Kawasaki Versys (also purchased as overstock in August of 2013). I enjoy the bike but I replaced the cast wheels with wire wheel assemblies and went to a 19” in front, making it a totally different bike from stock in handling. I also installed a GPS, a mount for my Hero GoPro, and a pair of LED auxiliary driving lights, all much used every day of my trip.

I rented a U-Haul motorcycle trailer – a great deal at $14.95 per day – and towed it up to Liberty, SC. The Pubic Storage there offers outside storage/parking for $20 per day. Nice to know all is secure and fenced when gone for a week. I stowed the Jeep and trailer and went off on my adventure. 


I should mention that my riding experience has been 100% off-road. I am a native of Southern California and rode the deserts and mountains there for over fifteen years growing up. My last bike, before buying a street bike in 2012, was a Honda XR650 in 1998. Moved to Charleston six years ago and bought my first street bike there. 

A bit of a sidebar here: I saw a 1976 Kawasaki KZ400 advertised as a "barn find" on Craigslist (need to stay off that website and my wallet would be much fatter) and it brought back memories of all the bikes I saw on the roads in High School while I was on motocross bikes.

So I picked up the bike for a few grand, putted around Charleston, and thought my off-road experience would translate to asphalt 100%.  It did somewhat, but it is not really the same. Sold the KZ (wish I still had it, but only so much room in the garage) and moved on to the Versys. 

Thus, I had some apprehensions going into the mountains, like the Tail of the Dragon, and just high speed turns and switchbacks in general. My confidence was "OK" but I was going to ride my speed, not anyone else's, wanting to enjoy the learning curve. Thinking back, glad I was on the Versys for the first go at it. The Stelvio is my favorite bike (only by 15%) but it is not a small bike in comparison.  Still, it is a hundred pounds lighter than competitors like BMW GS, Yamaha Tenere, or Aprilia Caponord. 

On the road up from Pickens I found a great route and intro to the type of roads I would be traveling for the next five days. And the more I rode, the more corners, the wider my grin. The Versys really was a great companion, and continued to be for the entire trip. 


This is where ‘fortune’ shined on me. I had been riding for maybe an hour or two on roads that were at times second gear corners.  It was great – better than great – but I wanted a ten minute rest.  Pulled off at a "Gas N’ Go" in Rosman North Carolina, filled up a coffee and was sitting on my bike. Another rider pulled in, but kept a little ways off. He was on a Ninja 650R and started walking my way. Full race leathers, well broken in, and realized he was a tall guy as he approached. Of course it was Bucky, as I learned when we started chatting. 

I had my waypoints in the GPS but had also printed maps.  I brought those out asking about the direction I was headed and giving him a bit of my story. I think based on how new my bike looked (1,800 miles) and other details, he took me under his wing so to speak knowing my experience was questionable. However, I did not realize it at the time, as he was just “well, I am riding that way too, mind if we ride together?”  “Of course,” I replied, and off we went. He or I followed one another and we rode for, I want to say, forty miles or so. 

The roads continued to be grand although the Blue Ridge Parkway has faster sweepers than the road up from Pickens. I mention Pickens again as it is a great ride up from there to Rosman. One issue I had was that the night before I left, a cold front had moved in and I had not packed for it.  Temps were supposed to be in the mid 70’s during the day but had plummeted to 50, maybe less, with severe wind gusts. I only had a summer riding jacket, tee-shirt, Levis and basically no gloves. I learned a valuable lesson on this trip: Plan for the worst. Anyway, I got the chills. I honestly could not stop shaking as I rode, just shivering, hands numb to where I could not feel if I was pulling in the clutch all the way.  I was beyond miserable but it was my error. 

Bucky was bundled up appropriately, head scarf, gloves, etc., but he was chilled somewhat as well. I remember going into a corner and a wind gust stood me up straight while I was leaned over at 50 miles an hour. I slowed down a bit after that. I was only hoping that after getting nearer the southern end of the Parkway that the wind would diminish and hopefully it would start to warm up as I dropped to the valley floor. Bucky and I stopped about twenty-six miles from the end of the Parkway, at Rosemount Road, and we could barely hear each other without yelling, the wind was so loud. We parted ways there, him back home and me on to Gatlinburg.

Bucky and I consulting my maps just before parting ways
My shivering needed to be addressed, so I stopped and opened the side bags and pulled on two other tee-shirts plus one for my head. Helmet back on and so much better. I started to warm a bit and could feel the air temp getting warmer as I was losing altitude from 5,000 feet. (Nearby Cherokee, NC is 1,991 feet above sea level.) 

I stopped for gas and then went on toward the north. The ride up to Gatlinburg and then over to Pittman Center Tennessee was pleasant, much warmer, and the road followed a stream/river for mile after mile. Just the best.

Here is a pic of the cabin where I stayed, but I am not going to give any more details as want it available next time I go up to the area :)


I fished for trout off the porch and listened to the running stream every night.  Best sleep ever.

I had planned to go over to the Dragon’s Tail but that was almost two hours away, and with the incredible roads all around in every direction, I stayed fairly local every day.

The best ride I had I will share next. It was only twelve miles long, but it took a good hour to complete and it ended with a mile of dirt forest road. My average count was 20 corners per mile – a really good workout. At the end of the road is an amazing water/electric power plant, the Walters Hydroelectric plant, and you can take I-40 toward the north and loop back to Pittman Center/Gatlinburg via. route 339, the Foothills Parkway.


This was one of those rare trips, where I met one of the nicest people you could hope to, and the riding was so above expectations. Most importantly, I really learned new riding skills every day. Trips like this are significant to becoming a better rider.  

Thanks again Bucky and hope to ride with you soon!

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Bucky's Perspective:
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Back in April I decided to ride up to the Blue Ridge Parkway again and see what I could, while enjoying the roads.  Last time I went up, in late March, I had checked on the Parkway's website to see if it was open between NC-215 and Asheville, NC, to the north.  It wasn't, so I entered the Parkway from one road to the east, US-276 instead.  The ride was still quite enjoyable, if a little shorter than I had hoped. 

This time, I decided to go up US-178 and NC-215 and go south on the Parkway, maybe to Waterrock Knob or Cherokee, its southern terminus. 


I start out from home, dressed warmly under my leathers because it is likely to be cool in the higher elevations.  (Later, I'll be glad I did that.)  I motor over to Pickens, SC and meet US-178.  The Perfect Curve soon beckons, and I continue onward, it first having mostly sweepers, then tighter turns as I cross SC-11. 

View Larger Map

I pass through Rocky Bottom, and reach the town of Rosman, NC.  I spot a shiny motorcycle fueling up at the only filling station in town.  I don't need gas, but I decide to stop and say hello. 


As I get closer, I can identify the bike.  It is a Kawasaki Versys.  It also has some new-looking saddle bags and a tail bag, too.  In fact the whole thing looks new.  Its owner, Robert, says he recently bought the bike from a dealer out in the sticks that has to take a certain number of street bikes in order to get the four wheelers he sells the most of.  

So, Robert got a great deal on a brand new 2011 Versys.  He swapped the cast aluminum wheels out for wire-spoked versions, and went to a larger front wheel at the same time.  The package is striking in appearance.

Robert is pondering some maps as I walk up, so I look over his shoulder to see where he is going.  It turns out he is from the low country of South Carolina (that means the flat lands near the Atlantic coast, for you who are not from around here).  There are hardly any curvy roads down there, so he has trailered his bike to Liberty, SC and is headed for Gatlinburg, TN via. US-178, NC-215, the Blue Ridge Parkway, and US-441.  Some of that route is exactly the same way I have in mind today. 

I ask if I can tag along, and, instead, he suggests that he could follow me.  I warn him that I ride a little like grandma, but he says that is fine with him.  I start out from the gas station, and ride the couple of miles to pick up 215.  The landmark on the corner is Headwaters Outfitters where you can arrange for river and fishing trips on the adjacent French Broad River. 


NC-215 is a two-lane road, but it has been recently paved and is pleasantly smooth.  The curves are a little tighter than what I would call sweepers, with a few much tighter ones thrown in here and there.  The right turn onto 215 almost always has gravel in it, but it is almost clean today.  That's, perhaps, a good sign of things to come.

I set a moderate pace, and handle the curves as they come.  Somehow, the road feels better to me today.  Maybe it is the pace, or maybe I am more at ease today, or concentrating more.  Only a little gravel and coarse sand present themselves, a continuation of the good sign back there at the start of 215.

As we are making our way toward the Parkway, seven guys pass us from the other way going at a very brisk clip.  The first one, on a distinctive green Kawasaki sportbike comes at us in the distance.  He charges by and the other six follow him at intervals. 


Not more than a mile onward, we come across a right hander. 


It looks innocent enough.  Tight, but not too tight. 


A little more lean.


And then I see it.


A mat of leaves and other debris washed across the road.  Thick in places. The guard rail had obscured it before now – a good reason to maintain a moderate pace, I'd say. 

I let off the throttle a little and apply a bit of brake.  Not too much.  It is uphill, so that slows me too.  I steer through the clearest places... 


...and make it just fine.  At the next opportunity, I look into my mirror and see that Robert made it as well.  I had not warned him as I should have of the hazard because I was concentrating on getting through it myself. 

Whew.  I don't like surprises.  Fortunately for the fast riders we just passed, the stuff in the road is a little more visible from the other direction, as I discover later in the day when I am going back home on the same road. See here: 


We move briskly along on 215 until the overpass for the Parkway comes into view.  It is getting colder and much more windy up here. 


We make a left onto the Parkway, then a right to head south on it.  The gates are closed to the north, though I never did determine why.  I am glad he/we didn't have to go that way. 

We stop at the first overlook, and collaborate on the next leg of the journey.  Robert is ready to go in a few minutes' time, so we decide that he should lead.   He heads out smartly and I follow.  He takes the sweeping curves well, and keeps a good pace, pushing the speed limit.  He has never ridden this road before, so he is reading each curve.  The few times when he enters a corner where it looks like he thinks he is a little too hot, he gently applies a little brake and makes the corner without a lot of drama. 


None of this, thank you:

Blue Ridge Parkway Motorcycle Safety Road Sign
Item ID - 51333404
Now this popular sign doesn't have to be stolen for
people to enjoy its serious, but humorous message.
Sign measures 12" x 12"

The day is beautiful, if a little cold – about 50 degrees – and the wind is gusty – up to about 25 MPH.  The wind gusts make for unexpected corrections that are a bit unnerving, especially in the curves.  It blows us hither and yon, sometimes several inches to one side or the other.  Still, we are enjoying the road and the ever-changing panorama that we are passing through.  It is as though we have been granted this treat by God for us alone to enjoy today, for there is almost no other traffic. 

We keep going and enjoying.  A little less than seven miles before Waterrock Knob, Robert pulls off at Rosemount Road and we consult his maps. 


We decide that the best way is to go to the end of the Parkway, just north of Cherokee, NC, then turn north on  US-441.  That will take him through Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and on to Gatlinburg and beyond. 

The map from Rosman to here: 

View Larger Map

He will be spending a few days in that neck of the woods riding several roads he has picked out on the map.  He is enthusiastic about doing this, what with a brand new motorcycle, and a some time away from the job to drink in the surroundings and the routes he has planned. 

I envy him a little, but I must take my leave and go towards home.  My schedule says I have some old folks to play the piano and sing for later today. 

I wish Robert a good and safe trip, and he rides off toward Cherokee to continue his adventure. 

His route today will look something like this:

View Larger Map

I turn back the way we came.  I stop for a picture of the beautiful sky – and the pretty bike – at the highest point on the Parkway, 6,053 feet above sea level.  


I continue on to an overlook, Courthouse Valley, just before turning onto NC-215. 


The sign is down for repairs, but someone has placed a sticker on the support post.


It is for Dime City Cycles in Largo Florida.  They sell "Cafe Racers, Bobbers, Parts and Accessories."  Maybe one of their bikes stopped here before me. 


I retrace the rest of my earlier route today – a total of 170 miles of total enjoyment.  The roads were sweet, the scenery beautiful, the traffic light, and the companionship pleasurable.  It is 80 degrees back where I live when I return, a considerable difference from the mountains.  Here is my route today


I forgot to tell you one other thing that helped make my day.  Back when I left Robert, as he went on his way to Gatlinburg, he made an observation regarding my riding style while he was following me on 215.  He said that I was a smooth rider in the curves.  He didn't say fast.  He said smooth.  The pace was moderate, and the road good, but I don't think I could have received a better complement to boost my spirits.  As I look back, the turns on 215 did feel good from the saddle that day. 
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