Crazy Cold

Wayne Bears, from left: Captain, CT Blogger, Pogy, Princess, Ed, Token2.
It was so cold, we took the group photo inside.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, ride to Hooters, Wayne, NJ, February 14, 2016.

By Chris Loynd:

Oh yes we did! Temperature was minus five degrees Fahrenheit when I started out Sunday. It warmed to positive eight when I returned home.

My 19-year-old, 1997, Honda ST1100 is carbureted with a choke. It sits in an unheated garage. It can be a challenge to start on a regular cold day.

I went into the garage early Sunday morning. As close as I could position it next to the parked bike, without actually touching the plastic, I placed an oil-filled electric heater turned up as high as it allows. Directly underneath the bike I positioned a 100 watt light bulb. Over top it all I jury-rigged a blanket to try and concentrate the heat.

My garage is thin walled, only wooden siding on studs. There are lots of cracks and an old fashioned, open copula sits atop the roof. The wind was blowing. There was no way I was going to warm up the garage. My hope was to soften the bike's oil just enough to get it started so internal combustion could do the rest.

When it was time to go, the bike started but would not run. I have a fairly new battery, and it on a trickle charger. So I cranked it and rested, cranked and rested. On the fourth try the old girl decided I was serious about riding. She stumbled for a bit but then settled into her choke-induced fast idle. White smoke poured out of the twin exhausts. I waited, and waited, and waited for the temperature gauge to move off of dead cold.

Just as I was ready to go, I gave my wife Cynthia a quick kiss and then she went and gave voice to my deepest, unsaid fear, "You'll be warm unless you break down." Dang! I hope she didn't jinx me. Fortunately I give no sway to superstition.

What she said is true, all the same. My comfort was solely dependent upon copious amounts of electricity, funneled through a thermostat and interspersed through micro wires embedded in my specialized clothing. If the engine does not run, the alternator does not turn, and I get very cold very fast.

Fortunately, Ishiro Honda knew his stuff and his successors build a quality product. Once the bike warmed it ran just fine. She started right up at Hooters for the ride home. There were a few temperature related effects. Secondary lubricants were challenged by the cold. I had cruise control! The throttle would simply stick in whatever position I left it. Oh, it was easy enough to twist it off and on, no worries. But it didn't snap back when I let go.

My turn signals were similarly challenged. To cancel I have to push the button in. It did not want to go. I ended up re-centering the switch instead. Minor complaints, really.

As my motorcycle and its oversize alternator pumped electrons into my clothing, I can't say enough about my Warm & Safe heated clothes. This is the first year, in 14 years of riding Polar Bear, that I've splurged on the whole set. My electric jacket, pants and socks pumped out enough heat that I never cranked the thermostat to full power. I tried. I was afraid of burning the tops of my feet.

My heated gloves were not up to the challenge on their own. I kept flexing my fingers to get the warmer blood from other parts of my body to circulate through them. I tightened and relaxed my thigh and stomach muscles and it helped enough to get me to the destination. For the ride home I put on my hippo hands and now protected from the wind my hands were more than warm enough.

When we arrived at Hooters there was frost on the inside of my face shield and ice clumps in my mustache.

Princess was so cold, she just parked her bike diagonally across a couple of spaces. She was too cold to paddle walk it into any better a configuration. She headed inside still layered to the max. Shoot, we thought she was going to eat lunch still wearing her helmet. Princess was walking around Hooters in her layers, jacket still zipped full up, helmet still on, a dramatic contrast to the waitresses running around in tank tops and short shorts.

When she finally warmed a bit, she took off her full face helmet, donned her tiara and surprised us all with a Valentine's gift.

Princess rode with an electric jacket and lots of layers. Captain still toughs it out with no electric clothes. However his Goldwing has heated grips and a heated seat. Ed's Harley has heated grips and he said they made enough difference in supplementing his heated gloves. I may have to consider an upgrade.

Token2 met us as we pulled into the Hooters parking lot. This destination is about equidistant from his home to the Hutch bus stop where he usually joins us en route. He rode back with us.

We rode back as we usually do up the Garden State Parkway and over the Tappan Zee Bridge. We decided not to stop at the top for a coffee. For me, the idea of taking off all those layers wasn't worth taking a break on such a short ride. Atypically, we stayed down on I-95 in Connecticut instead of the Merritt Parkway. We hoped to catch a degree or two of warmth from Long Island Sound.

Layers, lots of layers. Captain and Princess ready to ride home.

Well it was warm inside for Polar Bear Grand Tour Grand Pooh Bah Bob.

Coronation

Bangor Bears, back row from left: Token2, Fonz, Paul. Front row, from left: Grumpy, Captain, Pogy, CT Blogger, Princess

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, ride to Riverton Hotel, Bangor, Penn., February 7, 2016.

By Chris Loynd:

When my daughter Annie was in the Girl Scouts she asked me a pointed question, "Dad, what's the difference between Girl Scouts and HOGs?" My reply was that I could think of a lot of things. Annie's reply was, "Girl Scouts have green vests and HOGs' are black."

And the biggest news for the Connecticut Polar Bears this past Sunday is the Grand Tour patches are in!

We Polar Bear ride for fun, companionship, laughs and points. For the Polar Bear Grand Tour, points equal patches and pins. We sew the patches and affix the pins on black vests. Like the Girl Scouts, the patches are badges of accomplishment, except for Polar Bears just showing up is considered achievement enough.

You earn two points for riding your motorcycle to each Sunday's destination. Plus you earn one point for each 100 miles round trip from your home to the destination. Earn 30 points and you get a patch the first season and a rocker patch indicating the year. At 30 points you get a red rocker. Earn 45 points and you are upgraded to a gold rocker. Earn 60 points and you get a polar bear pin. There is also a perfect attendance pin. Each subsequent year you can earn a rocker stitched with the season.

Captain has been the Connecticut Bears' undisputed points king. You can earn extra points for donating blood, attending the summer AMA Corn Boil in New Jersey and completing a few other special runs. I think John's done it all for points except the Crotona Midnight Run. Captain's generally earned his first rocker by the second or third ride. (Coming from Connecticut, we enjoy a built-in mileage points advantage.) I don't judge him too harshly; I too must cop to donating blood and making the Corn Boil a time or two.

There is a complementary patch, unofficial to the Grand Tour, for Connecticut Bears only. It is conferred upon those of us from the nutmeg state. You must first earn the Grand Tour badge and then ride with our band of misfits, which includes taking a fair share of abuse and jokes at your expense.

Princess was so very excited to receive her Grand Tour patches and rockers on this ride. Then Grumpy, unofficial Sargent at Arms, surprised her with the coveted CT Bear patch. It is a great honor, rarely conferred upon one who is not a Connecticut resident. And Princess is welcome to wear it with pride, just as soon as she pays $6 for the patch. Hey, we're a zero-based accounting group.

Joanna's ecstasy for patches helped overcome her agony over her meal. Some of the servers, perhaps they were even proprietors, of Riverton Hotel looked European. Princess was thrilled to find pierogies on the menu. She tried to inquire with the servers as to authenticity. But the dining room was rapidly filling and they were distracted with other customers.

She was grievously disappointed with what arrived from the kitchen. They did not look like any pierogies I'd ever seen. Fortunately Princess was sitting next to the Polarican. Fonz correctly identified her dish as empanadas. We postulated that like most restaurants in America, while the proprietors may have been Polish, the cook was most likely Mexican.

My soup was tasty but lukewarm. My crab cake sandwich was just okay. Grumpy said the pickles needed another week in the brine. I thought they were okay. Grumpy is very particular about pickles. The service was friendly and almost fast enough for Captain. All in all, we told the Grand Pooh Bah that we would vote to keep Riverton Hotel on the schedule for next year. Just don't order the pierogies.

If you're a faithful reader of this blog you'll recall Grumpy's ride leadership was a topic of last week's post. He led again this week and I am pleased to report his pace was smooth and controlled. All I had to do was ask, nicely.

Chris and Grumpy in their Polar Bear vests with patches and badges and pins, oh my!

Princess proud Polar Bear!

And a Connecticut Polar Bear!

So there, Captain!

Princess also won the 50/50 this week!

Facebook famous.

Grumpy Unleashed

Schaefferstown riders from the CT Polar Bears, from left: Mac, Grumpy, Token2, Captain and Princess.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, ride to Franklin House Tavern, Schaefferstown, Penn., January 31, 2016.

Editor's Note: The Chocolate Expo claimed my Sunday for this ride. It was a 12+ hour day but very worthwhile. The Maritime Aquarium where I work put up its best ever, one-day, attendance: 7,937. You can see photos from the day in the Aquarium's blog post. As I catch up the blog on Thursday, February 4, snow is predicted for tonight and tomorrow. But it looks to clear in time and I am really looking forward to getting on the bike. Meanwhile, Token2 shares this accounting of what I missed. (And John, Mennonites drive cars, Amish drive buggies. Coming from Lancaster County, I can't help but offer this single correction.) Chris Loynd.

By John Howard, a.k.a. Token2

An 8am start was set to accommodate the 200+ miles to the destination in Schaefferstown, PA. It was a gray start to the day with temperatures near freezing. As the day  progressed the weather improved considerably, treating us to mostly sunny skies and milder temperatures that hit 60°F on the way home. A far cry from the prior weekend’s snow blanket.

The ride got off to a bit of an odd start. Firstly, Joanna was a no show at the Westchester pick-up point until the exact moment Capt appeared who was riding solo coming off the 287 ramp, which in of itself was unexpected. Gesticulating maniacally suggested we needed to make haste for some reason.  Princess made a quick left turn from the traffic light intersection (oh, the light was green…I must have been mistaken) as I fumbled to get my bike started. As we joined the interstate another four members of the group could be seen ahead. Clearly an egregious break to the recent pick up protocol had been cooked up at the Dunkin Donuts in Stratford. Anyway, the three of us coalesced behind Paul (aka Thumper), Mac, new Ed with Grumpy in the lead. The  usually present Pogy hung out his ‘gone fishin’ sign this week.

Seeing Thumper in the formation suggested rather big ambitions for such a long, mostly interstate ride on a 400cc single. However, he peeled off at Elmsford and it seemed that perhaps second thoughts had emerged. It was later revealed that was Paul’s plan all along, a relatively short run to check out his heated clothing set up. Wise choice Thumper, as you left Grumpy opened up. Grumpy later indicated he had set a moderate pace until Paul’s scheduled exit, lucky lad.

Tank filling and bladder emptying took place just east of the NJ/PA line, at which point Ed revealed his plan for the day, which was to turn around and head back home in time to celebrate his mother or mother-in-law’s 90^th birthday (I forget which). Now to some that would seem a pointless use of the morning. But wait, that is the point. It is the ride not the destination that draws us together. So while the majority of us got Bear points for today, Ed got brownie points from his SO, assuming he made it home in time (in the dog house otherwise).

Anyway, returning to Grumpy unleashed, he set a robust, vigorous pace. Mac later suggested that the speed may have reinjured his recently repaired left shoulder rotator cuff  due to the forces exerted when he stuck his arm out to indicate a lane change. For sure if we had the misfortune to come across a Statie the pace would have stretched the officer’s sense of humor.

After several years absence your author had claimed the sweep position. It seems that given the relatively clear roads I ended up lollygagging along at times. Capt made note of it to me at lunch ‘I thought Mac was sweep at times’ which was rather unfair to Mac, but pointedly sharp and correctly so to yours truly. I promised to try harder on the way home; I hope I succeeded as I wish to avoid further punishment and tongue lashing. Which reminds me, I need to check the CTPB rules, somewhere in there I thought Capt was not allowed to dish out abuse, only receive it.

At the fuel stop Grumpy advised me that he would use exit 17 (rather than the customary 13) and approach the destination from the east. Sounded good, which is no doubt why he did a quick turn right and came off at exit 19. That confused everyone, most presuming him lost. So we got back on I78 and exited two miles further on. Capt almost went rogue presuming that Grumpy was lost but in the end made the exit. On the ramp Capt restarted frenzied gesticulations,  apparently he was not in the know on Grumpy’s plan.  As I write this report Capt’s hand and arm signals remind me of the semaphore crab, a critter native to Australia. The analogy is best clarified by the Australian Museum “The word 'semaphore' means a type of signalling apparatus with moving arms or flags, and refers to the males' habit of standing by their burrows and signalling to other crabs by waving their claws up and down. Exactly what they are signalling is unclear.”  Clear now?

Grumpy was disconcertingly contrite about the exit 19 misstep. It is to be hoped that as Grumpy continues his recovery he will knock this touchy feely stuff off and return to the man we know is under there! Anyway, missteps…hey, we have all had ‘em!

The ride along PA419 was delightful. Red barns, stone houses and fields with a thick covering of snow reflecting the sun under a clear blue sky. What could be better? The staff at Franklin House said they received a record 31 inches of snow the prior weekend. It was stacked everywhere.

The Franklin staff did a nice job as usually. Quickly seated, fast service, good food. Deserving of the big tip that was left.

As we were getting seated and attending to our phones up pops a text from Fonz, who it turns out was late for the group start. His tardiness was good news for the group but bad news for Fonz who reported having clutch failure and being stuck roadside on West I78. For the reasons noted above Fonz would have needed nitro fuel to catch us and perhaps the clutch failure is another sequelae of Grumpy unleashed…. that is overreach I hear you say (OK, you are right). Offers of assistance were made but none accepted, hopefully he will relay his misadventure as an addendum to the blog. (I received a text from Fonz at 10.56pm Sunday saying he had made it home.)

We left  Schaefferstown via the normal 501 route and  passed a number of Mennonite buggies on the way to I78. Princess greeted them with a royal wave, I did not see any return the gesture. That being the case Mennonites should be added to the long list of groups that don’t wave to Harley riders. The journey home was uneventful and fast. One stop in NJ for gas and comfort, but no stop at the top. Grumpy had to nap before work and Capt had to work before napping. Alas, that means no Montvale group selfie this week from the Princess….oh, the horror!

See you all next week.

P.S. Chris…please put the inflatable whale away, stop shoveling snow or gorging on chocolate and get on that ST1100. For the first time in ages Harleys outnumbered imports on this ride.