Day 4 - 167 Miles

The day started out dreary with rain, and reports of flash flooding in the direction we planned to travel were dismal. We decided to sandbag for a few hours until most of the rain had passed. Time for a less than spectacular breakfast at IHOP, but nonetheless better than the continental breakfast at the hotel. Rather than a scenic journey towards Abingdon, VA, we took the direct route on I-81. We still passed through several showers, but the worst part was behind us. Joseph seemed to have solved his starter shorting out problems, and made the journey with us.

Our destination was the Barter Theatre, one of the oldest continually operating LORT D theatres in the country. Lunch was provided in the Barter Theatre Cafe compliments of CM Hoist Manufacturing. Several folks got tickets to see The Wizard of Oz, and the rest of us got the grand tour of the scenic, property, and costume shops, as well as several smaller venues, and rehearsal halls. One of our riders, Michael, was a carpenter at the Barter in the late 70's. I could see the joyful look in his eye, reminiscing about old times.

Dinner tonight was an old fashioned pig picking with Moe's Mom and Dad in Bristol, VA. For those not in the know, a 'pig picking' is a whole or half pig roasted slowly over open coals for 10-14 hours. The meat just falls off the bones, and usually before it's all said and done, a crowd gathers around the carcass and picks off tender, juicy bits, or crunches on the crispy skin.

The back yard drops off down to a glen where the feast was laid out. The bucolic landscape spread to adjoining field with cows and horses munching on grass. The property is bordered with thorny blackberry bushes dripping with plump berries. Moe's Dad spent the last two days picking blackberries for a scrumptious cobbler. It was still warm, and the ice cream slowly melted into the buttery crust. An awesome end to our day.

Today's short slide show:

Day 3 - 352 Miles

Today was an early start, although kickstands at 7:00am turned into more like 7:20am, sort of like scooter time. We left Richmond heading west on I-64. Joseph has been blowing fuses on his starter, and the local Harley shop will get him in to take a look. Dennis and Frank will stay behind and meet up at the hotel tonight.

A thick mist hangs in the air, and visibility becomes more difficult when we head north on US 522. The slower speeds make it harder to clear my face shield. The sun barely cuts through the mist, leaving a spooky feel to the rolling fields and farms along the gently twisting two lane.

After a few stops to take on and release fuel, we finally get to the start of Skyline Drive, a twisty curvy highway along the ridge of the Shenandoah Mountains. The winding road has a speed limit of 35 mph, and in some places its obvious why. The sunlight peeking through the tree covered road makes a mosaic on the road making it difficult to distinguish the bumps and cracks from the shadows.

We've split in two groups. I'm taking the detour to Luray Caverns, the other group will continue on the 100 or so miles of Skyline drive towards Fisherville, our lunch destination. These caverns are huge. I've toured caverns in NC, TN and Bermuda, and this by far is the largest. Also makes for huge crowds, and I sort of miss the tour guide, now that they use self-guided headsets. I tried my hand at photos without the use of flash, or a tripod, shaky, but OK. The highlight I think is the The Great Stalacpipe Organ. A custom console that actuates rubber mallets, via solenoids on stalagmites to produce a complete range of tones like a pipe organ.

We were treated to lunch by the Fisherville Methodist Church. BBQ and homemade potato and macaroni salad were a welcome treat after a long morning. The highlight by far was the homemade ice cream. Thanks to Larry "Pastor Disaster" and the rest of the church for lunch.

We continued along the Blue Ridge Parkway towards Roanoke. The ride gave us ample opportunity to take in the vistas from the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Surprisingly there was little traffic. I expected much worse for a weekend. The cooler temperatures at the higher elevations made for an enjoyable afternoon.

Dinner was compliments of Moe and Christine's Uncle Charles and Aunt Anna. They have retired to Roanoke and built a gorgeous and inviting home. It was a great end to a long day driving.

Some slides for today:

Day 2 - 98 Miles

Our morning started early with the blessing of the bikes. A local Powhatan Chief Ken sent us on our way to leave this world a better place than we found it. Sounds good to me. We didn't leave till Bill blessed the bikes as well with Holy Water from his mother Ida.

Our first stop was a trip to Historic Jamestown. A canopy of trees lined the narrow winding road towards the East. We got a few breaks waiting in construction zones and a few group photo ops.

Once in Historic Jamestown, we split to take in the Museum and Exhibits at our own pace. The Museum had a special exhibit of Bermuda and the influence it had on the early settlements of the Americas. Interesting for me, several artifacts I have enjoyed in my journeys to Bermuda were on loan here.

Several replica ships were moored on the river and were open to tour. I can't imagine living in the cramped quarters of these ships as they sailed across the Atlantic. I also can't imagine working at the museum as a re-enactor. These actors were decked out in heavy clothing, and the temperatures were in the 90's with high humidity.

Several of us were historied out, and decided to take the ferry across to Surrey and try to find the Virginia Diner we were told about rather than continue on to Williamsburg and Yorktown. Supposedly it has a delectable selection of pies. Our small group got split up when the TSA, or whoever thinks we're wanting to blow up the ferry, decided to stop half of us for a "random" search. It was Chris's turn to strip his bike for one agent while the other examined the underside of his bike with a mirror. The rest of us waved good-bye to the other half of the group as the ferry pulled away from the dock.

We managed to make the best of it. Greg handed out kazoos to kids in several cars on the next ferry. Kazoos became the calling card for the Long Reach Long Riders several years ago, and it makes for a lot of happy kids, if not happy parents, for a while anyway. The kazoos are a perfect ice breaker for a bunch of motorcycle riders trying to raise money and awareness for the charities we are supporting. Two small boys came back to Greg with a small donation themselves. Thanks kids, it really does go for a great cause.

Needless to say we never found the Diner after we caught up with the rest of the group that made the first ferry. We managed to dodge several rain showers on the way back to Richmond.

Last night Darren suggested we might enjoy a local biker hangout called the Sportsman Lounge. Pool tables, darts, shuffle board, horseshoes, and locals. Good food, good beer and good times. More kazoos for the local patrons.

A double rainbow greeted me as I left the bar. Tomorrow we're off towards Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Today's slide show is a bit longer:

Day 1- 195 miles

I actually got out of town within 15 minutes of my goal. It's rare for me. My journey to Richmond, VA takes me up US1 on familiar roads. I've made more than a few trips here in the last year to help my friend from Columbia, Lynn, to re-build her Lambretta. She's been working with Darren Lopez, restorer extraordinaire, and I've learnt a lot myself. I stick to US1 rather than the interstate, and this ride is relaxing and enjoyable. Once into Virginia, the road becomes speckled with sunlight along the gentle hills and curves towards Richmond.

The Lambretta bug bit me a while back, and I learn something every time I visit. I planned to stop in to see Darren on the way. His yard and shop are scattered with Lambrettas and Vespas in all shape and forms, waiting to be restored. Once there, Darren's lovely companion Charlotte, treated me to the fresh spoils of their garden on warm pita with hummus. Fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers, marinated in vinegar base with fresh herbs. I really didn't want to leave, but I had a riders meeting at 5pm.


Many old faces and many more new faces this year with the Long Reach Long Riders. We have almost 30 riders on 20 bikes or so. Some have come as far away as England, Canada, and California. Many of us are from the East Coast. Mostly Harleys, with a few Hondas, the rare Suzuki, and me on the lone Vespa.

We leave after the briefing to a splendid dinner hosted by the Chickahominy Indian Tribe at the Tribal Center. The tribe located near the James River helped the early settlers survive the the first few winters. We get a rich history lesson along with a feast of deer meat, both braised and barbecued, fresh fish, potatoes, and succotash.

A few raindrops on the way back to the hotel was not so bad, although I didn't bring my rain gear. We enjoyed another impromptu rider meeting along with some fresh spoils of someone else's corn crop in the liquid form. I'm looking forward to tomorrows trip to historic Jamestown and Williamsburg.

A short slide show from today.

I'm Off on Another Journey

Day minus one-

Well, I'm doing it again, but not all the way across the country this time. The Long Reach Long Riders Charity Ride this year will be on the East Coast, snaking along Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway. I'm no less prepared for this journey than I was for the last. It's easier for me to pack and prepare, since I made the first of these journeys last year. I tend to start packing in my head a few weeks out, so the real act of getting my act together is not so stressful.

I did however discover in my prepping my scooter for this journey, I have sheared off on of my exhaust manifold studs. I'm keeping my fingers crossed it won't cause me problems, but I have taken the precaution of a wire tie to loosely divert my rear brake line away from the hot exhaust gasses leaking from the exhaust header. I figure I've been riding around like this for along time, so I'm not too worried.

A drive to Greensboro tonight to take my Mom to dinner to celebrate her 80th birthday is a welcome diversion to the 'last night before a long journey' doubts. I really don't have the time stress about what I have forgotten or not. I've just gotta go...

I Survived Highway 50

From I Survived Highway 50

Well, I actually got in the mail today my certificate, suitable for framing, and pin from the Nevada Tourism Commission that says "I Survived Highway 50.

The pin is sort of lame. Doesn't even say I survived.

From I Survived Highway 50

Island Vespa

So, it's not a Vespa, but it's my ride on the island.

Bermuda, ahhh my treasured island to bemoan. You see, every time I arrive, the weather is gruesome, and work is a burdensome chore, but the folks I work for, Barry and James are a treat to work with. This time is no different. I try my best keep my rain gear with me at all times, but I usually fail miserably.

It was sad in a twisted sort of way to find a Piaggio badge from some Vespa crushed and defaced at the end of the driveway at Barry's house.

One of the things I do take the time to do is find a rock on the water to enjoy, while eating my lunch. It really helps to get away from the job site during lunch and enjoy the scenery. I can look, but I can't touch....I've nearly gotten to the point of not telling people where I'm going when I have to come over here and work. I get the idea most people think I'm laying on the beach. Just ask anyone whom I've brought over to work here. It ain't no vacation, trust me. If it's not miserably hot and humid, it's raining, or a hurricane is on the way.

Here's how it usually goes. I get a crap load of gear shipped over here. I'm lucky if it gets unloaded off the boat and cleared through customs in a timely fashion, and undamaged. Then, say one of my manufacturers forgets to send the bolts for the clips, I have to drive to the other side of the island to a hardware store only to find they have the bolts, but not the nuts. OK, so I drive to the opposite side of the island, to another hardware jobber, they have the nuts, but they're metric. I swear, this is the way it goes. Yea, its a vacation....I get to work on my stunning lineless full body suntan in the depths of most any dark theatre.

In all the fifteen years I've been working on this island, I never took the time to check out the local Vespa shop. I tried to score some swag, but I failed miserably. With so many scooters here, I believe it is considered merely a utilitarian purchase. Very different than the scooter shops back in the states. Nothing, no tee-shirts, no key chains, nada, zip, zilch. There is a pile of rusting hulks of LX125 frames looking pitiful to me.

A little slide show of my latest journey:

Laundry Day

Well... really, wash the scooter day.


I've never washed my scooter, really. I'm one of those 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' kind of people. I wash my car once a year whether it needs it or not.

I have to admit however, after more than 8800 miles on the road, and not enough rain showers to wash the bugs off it was looking pretty bad. Really bad. Several people along the way asked if they could help me wash, like the windscreen, or something. I figured since I didn't actually look through it, why did it matter?

Today's slide show is for all you kind folks who really wanted to wash my scooter. You know who you are.

One Day after -

Sleeping in my own bed was nice, but it just didn't seem right without a couple of felines stomping over me all night. They're still at their Grandparents house, and will be for a few more days. I've got to jump right back into work.

Almost 8800 miles. Wow! I'm so glad I took this trip, and I'd leave tomorrow again if I could. I have had the splendid opportunity to meet and enjoy some of the finest people one could ever meet. I think I have forged some new friendships that just wouldn't have happened if not for this extraordinary journey.

All the guys and gals on the lrlr.org charity ride, I'm proud to have had the opportunity to share some incredible vistas of this country I've only seen from 32,000 feet in the air, and conjure up some cash for two outstanding charities. All you Royal Bastards on the west coast, thank you for opening your hearts and homes and making me a part of you. I'm more than just Easy, I'm humbled and honored. To all my Cushman friends, thank you for welcoming me to your world. It's been a trip, really. And to anyone reading this now, thank you. Writing this has not been easy for me, but I think it's worth it. I appreciate all your comments.

Many of you have kindly asked me about my concerns for my personal safety and what precautions I had taken. Well...really...none. I mean I do carry an 18" breaker bar and a swell Gerber hatchet, but those items would be nowhere at hand if I really needed to clock someone. I think a lot of one's personal safety is in one's head. Look confident and you'll be confident. I helps for sure that I wear the full get up of protective gear with a full face helmet and dark face shield. My riding style probably gives me away to experienced riders, but for the most part, I think I look mostly androgynous. Actually on several occasions in Utah and Kansas, a carload of youth would speed by, yelling 'faggot' out their windows, and display their limp wrists. I usually responded with my tightly cupped hand pageant wave.

Several people have asked what would I do different next time. Hmmm. Let's see...

#1- I won't bury my flashlight deep in the pet carrier. I'll start of with it in the glove box.

#2- Unless I'm doing a specific camping trip, I'll ditch the tent and sleeping bag. Just too bulky, and for me, I rather enjoyed finding and staying at the no-tell-motels found on the outskirts of small towns. I like having internet.

#3- Sunblock everyday. I didn't realize until the third or fourth day that I could get a sunburn on my face under my full-face helmet with a sun visor. Same thing with windburn around my neck despite the high collar of my hi-viz jacket.

#4- I should have researched my locales more in advance. Even with my leisurely 250 mile a day pace, I burned up a good portion of the day deciding what I would like to seek out. Some days I just drove until something caught my eye.

#5- I'll call my credit card company every three days to make sure they don't cut my card off for 'my own fraud protection' No, wait...I did that already. What useless pricks at American Express. Seems like only the last of nine separate calls that eventually was routed to 'Account Services Dept.' was able to cut through the BS and stop the declines. Why 'Customer Service Dept.' or 'Fraud Dept.' couldn't do the same thing is a mystery to me.

The things I would do the same again:

#1- Have a spare set of keys accessible at all times. It really came in handy when I left my keys on Lucky's kitchen counter in Sacramento, and we had trailered the scooters the few hours to Tahoe. Would have been very awkward to go back for keys.

#2- Take spare tools, wheel, rollers, belt, and such. It ate up most of my space in the pet carrier, but I was confident I could handle most any roadside maintenance issue. With the exception of the keys, I'm of the mindset: if I have it, I won't need it, and conversely if I need it, I won't have it. So, I tend to overpack.

#3- Take spare oil. I think the days of WOT burned oil. I had to add oil three times, about 2/3 cup each time.

#4- Take spare fuel. I bought two small fuel bottles from the local outdoor camping store. Clamped one under the rear luggage rack and another in the pet carrier. Needless to mention, I did run out of fuel near McLean, TX, where the fuel stations are not at every exit.

#5- Take and drink plenty of water, always. De-hydration is an issue in all kinds of weather.

#6- Take lots of gloves, once a pair gets wet, even the waterproof ones, they transmit the cold badly to my fingers. It was nice to have a dry pair of gloves to switch to. Same thing for mesh gloves, once they're wet, they're a drag.

#7- Take a good first aid kit, and forget the band-aids. Take loads of gauze and other blood sucking material. Road-rash is not pretty and band-aids would be worthless for some deep blood gushing gash in my flesh.


Thats all for now. It's good to be home.

Cheers.

Day 37 - 115 Miles

Destination: Home

I sandbagged all day long waiting for the sun to go down. A cold snap was predicted for tomorrow: 92F high. I figured either wait for the sun to go down, or wait until the next morning. Besides, it gave me almost another whole day to visit with my cousins and aunts whom I just don't get to see too often.

I walked to the Trent River Coffee shop, my cousin Lauralyn, was already there. Several customers were skeptical of my recent adventure, but mercifully Ed, the proprietor had a computer there. This blog reveals all.

We decided to try the Pollack Street Deli for breakfast, but we just missed the cut off. A grilled shrimp salad with feta cheese however was as good or better as an omelet had we gotten there earlier. I'm amused at all the bears, some carved well, some not scattered all through town.

The temperature drops to a frigid 90F after the sun goes down, and that's my cue to head home. The thought of sleeping in my own bed seems foreign. I've slept in nearly as many different beds as the number of days I've been gone on this journey. I've met so many wonderful people along the way, it seems like it will be a let down, but I'm anxious to get home.

A short slide how today: