Polar Bear Motorcycles: Notable or Notorious Connecticut Bears?

Montgomeryville Bears, from left: CT Blogger (your's truly), Token2, Captain, Mac, Fonz, Princess and down front of his own volition the Pogster.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, ride to Montgomeryville Cycle Center, Hatfield, Penn., December 6, 2015.

By: Chris Loynd

There's a line in the movie "The Natural" where Robert Redford's lead character baseball great Roy Hobbs asks sportswriter Max Mercy (played by Robert Duvall), if he ever played the game. "No," Mercy answers, "Never did. But I make it more interesting to watch."

Perhaps this blog makes some small contribution to making the Polar Bear Grand Tour a bit more interesting. And for the record, I do ride with the Polar Bears, and from Connecticut.

We knew early on that more than our Connecticut contingent read this blog. It started with the Captain and his hat. Pretty soon random strangers came up to him at Polar Bear meets addressing him by his blog promulgated moniker. It happens still. It happened just today.

Last week we created a new character in the Connecticut Bear's Pantheon. I had christened her Long Distance Diva. But Captain crowned her a Princess last week. And that's the name that stuck.

So much so that when I signed in this Sunday, Flight B Leader Jim barely said hello before he blurted out something about his girlfriend, or was it my girlfriend, did we bring her? Is she here? I had no idea what he was asking and mumbled a confused, "Huh?" "The Princess," he said emphatically, "Did she come this week?" "Oh. Yes," I replied. "She's out in the parking lot yapping, I mean, holding court."

Joanna was surprised, and I think secretly delighted, to see her sign-in sheet decorated, presumably by our Flight B Leaders, in a fashion befitting her station.

So whether you see us as notable, or notorious, we are happy to have you share our adventures.

Token2, back from his European travails, was pressured into leading this week's ride. He made the mistake, I guess, of riding up to the Stratford Dunkin' Donuts where our rides begin. (Usually we pick him up en route because he lives farther west in Connecticut; in fact, about as far west as one can live in our tiny state.)

Like Fonz last week, Token did a stellar job of leading . . .. right up to the point where we actually had to find our destination. Like Fonz, he exited too early. Either that, or he wanted us to tour the lovely holiday decorations of Chalfonte.

It is amazing how Pennsylvanian everything looks as soon as you cross over the Delaware River. Maybe it's because we come ashore at New Hope. Houses and businesses are lovely field stone with big wooden doors and wooden window shutters. They line narrow streets. Everything turns colonial. At lunch Joanna commented on seeing a sign for the Cock and Bull restaurant. She's heard of cock fighting and bull riding, but was shocked at such a name for an eatery.

(By the way, Token2 ditched the scenery on the ride home. He insisted on sticking to the Interstates, striking out for I-78 east, which led us through miles of retail that looked like every endless American strip mall. One notable exception was the fake silos on the truck weigh station buildings on I-78. Nice touch PennDOT, nice touch.)

We always have a bit of trouble with Montgomeryville. For one thing, our leaders -- me included -- never seem to be sure if we are approaching it from north or south and therefore are looking for it on the left or right. One year I famously missed catching it on the right because I was expecting it on the left and rode right past. It's not like there's a giant building and a big sign and a parking lot filled with motorcycles. All but my wing man, ever-faithful Russ, jumped ship and exited for the dealership. Russ is the world's best motorcycle wing man. He'll follow you up a tree, if that's where you're headed. Then there's the infamous story of Captain leading a ride all the way here to Montgomeryville Cycle Center on a day the Grand Tour destination was elsewhere. He led on, and on, ignoring boisterous protestations by his followers. As Captain says, "The minute I crested the hill, I knew I was in trouble." Hey, anyone can push the wrong button on a GPS, right?

At at stop light, somewhat close to our destination, Token shouted to me asking on which side he should expect the dealership. I just shrugged my shoulders. For the record, it was on the left, well actually on the right if you were to continue down the highway, but you have to exit to the right on that little spur which means the dealership is now on your left. If you've been here you know what I mean!

The folks at Montgomeryville Cycle Center always treat us very well. It took them a few years to get the Polar Bear thing down pat. Their first year hosting they went all out with a pig roast. And it snowed. Now they offer a hearty chili with fixin's, including corn bread, and a brownie. It is tasty, piping hot and served fast, as was the coffee. We all had seconds. Thank you!

The dealership also offers good deals on their stuff for us Bears. They were selling Warm and Safe jacket liners for half price this year. I was tempted to buy a second one as a backup to the liner I bought just before the season started.

One year, Fonz brought one of his buddies and the guy ended up buying a motorcycle . . . well you can't actually buy a motorcycle on Sunday in Pennsylvania. He fell in love with a motorcycle and then went back the next week to buy it. He hasn't ridden with us since. I don't think that's any reflection on his motorcycle or the dealership. The cold weather thing just did not resonate for him.

Montgomeryville has often been a weather-challenged destination. But this season we've not yet earned our "Polar Bear" status. The weather has been unseasonably warm; not that I'm complaining. Joanna was grousing about seeing frost this morning. Wait until we're riding the whole day with sub-freezing temperatures.

Our plight was summed up by a guy in his shirtsleeves just coming back to his car in the rest stop parking lot at the top of the Garden State Parkway. We were just dismounting and pulling off helmets and gloves. He asked Pogy, "When was the last time you guys were riding on the first weekend of December?" "Last year," Pogy answered back. And that, my friends, is the essence of the Polar Bear Grand Tour.