Not Enough Harassment

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, Ride to Bridgewater, NJ, November 12, 2017

By: Pogy

The morning started off at 34 degrees and overcast – I was so looking forward to my first ride of the season since I had missed the first two rides due to weather and a wedding.  I called The Captain at 0900 (at Duncan donuts) to confirm his departure and my pickup time.  All was a go – left the house and made my way to the Rest stop on 95 where right on time the guys rolled by blowing their horns – I joined up with the group which consisted of The Fonz, Anonymous Ed and The Captain.  

Ed was the lead, Fonz at the Tail – Traffic was light to moderate – I was behind The Captain  

For the first 30 plus miles or so, it was like riding with a slinky – Captain kept on looking down to his right and every time he did he lost 15 – 20 car lengths – then go like hell to catch up  - But in the end he settled down and the rest of the ride went well.

The food spread at the Eagles was well done and for $12 you could not beat it – 

We saddled up by 1230 and the only real traffic we hit was on 287 before the bridge – Stopping at the top to pee, Captain listened to 88 and heard that 95 was backed up in Darien so we took the Merritt once over the bridge

All in all a good day and a good ride 

I will say that it was not the same at the lunch table without T2, Chris, Grumpy and Mac – Not enough verbal harassment!!!!!

Ride safe 

Pog

Respect My Authoritay

Connecticut's Rockaway riders, from left: Grumpy, Captain, Token2, Fonz, CT Blogger, John J., Anonymous Ed and Scott.

Connecticut Polar Bears at lunch, from left, Anonymous Ed, Token2, Scott, John J., Captain, Fonz, CT Blogger and Grumpy. Photo by Grumpy using wide-angle mode on his new LG cell phone.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Rockaway, NJ, February 19, 2017

By: Chris Loynd, a.k.a. CT Blogger

Mark Twain, longtime Connecticut resident, famously said, "If you don't like the weather in New England now, wait a few minutes." We weathered a wacky weather week. Last Sunday we were forced by snow to drive. This Sunday we were almost too warm, almost.

 In Connecticut some of our foot-deep snowfall lingered still a week-and-a-half later. What was left was decorative in places. It accented craggy rock faces and lightened shadowy forest floors. Admittedly we also saw side of the road snow banks black with dirt. Still, I thought snow added an appropriate winter look to what felt all of a spring day.

Even at daybreak our temperatures were above February's average daytime temperature. Due to our relatively close destination, we had a late start, 10:00 a.m. By then the temperature was near 50 degrees; on the ride home it climbed nearer 60. Our CT Polar Bears were changing out gloves and shedding layers.

Anonymous Ed took the lead. He was great on the highways. Once we exited, he struggled a bit. At lunch he said something about the GPS on his bike being different from the one he was used to in his car.

I give him a B+, four out of five stars. On the highway he was steady and reasonable and that counts for a lot. That right fork turnoff for Main Street in Rockaway is a bit tricky. Lucky for Ed I was riding in third position. Also lucky for Ed there was a connecting side street closeby, albeit down a wicked-steep hill.

Captain was riding second position and tried to signal Ed he was missing the turn. The turn once missed, Captain hesitated about whether or not to follow. Hey, you gotta stick with your ride leader, even if he leads you to the wrong destination. In third position I kept coming and urged, nearly pushed, Captain to follow his leader, rather than making the over-the-berm hard right turn he desired.

Fonz who was second to last in line, and therefore not the sweep, wanted to sweep still. Token2 as sweep is obligated to stay with any rider who falls out of line. So when Fonz ditched the rest of us, instead taking the correct right fork, Token2 had to follow.

As we descended the cliff, I mean sidestreet, we found Fonz doing his authoritarian thing and blocking the road to help us enter. Of course that did nothing for the closer lane of oncoming traffic. Fortunately that car driver took pity on us and blocked cars behind him to let us out all in a line.

Anonymous Ed did see the big "The Exchange" sign of our destination, but appeared challenged in making a split-second decision to park on the street in front or the parking lot in back. He went for the back and we followed, well some of us followed. Fonz went for the street and took a couple of our riders with him. Parking lot choices were slim; there is a wicked-steep hill built into the lot. Maybe a low-slung car would be able to park parallel and not roll over. I was taking no chances with my high center of gravity Honda ST.

After all the fork-of-the-road and parking confusion, you know what happened? We all found our Connecticut mates and a big booth and had lunch together, despite our bikes being scattered across two parking lots and the street.

The Exchange parking lots and street front were packed, but the restaurant and bar were not. Our theory was because it was such a beautiful day a lot of the more local Polar Bears rode to the destination early, signed-in, then went touring around in the unexpectedly warm February sunshine.

This is often one of the brutally cold rides on our schedule. Was it two years ago the temperature started in minuses and never went above five degrees on this run? Grand Tour Grand Pooh Bah Bob told us his outdoor thermometer said 52 degrees when he awoke at 5:00 a.m. Assuming the thermometer was broken, Bob booted up his computer to check the weather.

Scott rode in a windbreaker over a fleece vest. He's never cold. He said he was tempted to choose a tank top instead of the short sleeve tee shirt he was wearing as his base layer just to tease me. Me, I still wore my silks and electrics then actually turned up my electrics, just a little.

On the way home we decided to shoot over to the Garden State Parkway so we could enjoy our stop-at-the-top. Once again Captain tried to drive Anonymous Ed from the second position. Ed made a right turn right in front of a big sign that said go straight for I-80 East. I don't know if it was luck or lucidity but no sooner than we turned we picked up an I-80 East on-ramp.

There was still a bit of confusion getting to the Garden State Parkway. At one point our sweep shot to the front, partly to help Ed find the GSP and maybe also out of Fonz frustration. We called Fonz out at our stop-at-the-top and he admitted to being challenged in having the patience to wait for the sweep on lane changes. Maybe we make him sweep next week, or leader.

Any of us who have been at the front or the back of the pack can attest that it is not easy. I had one of the most disastrous leads with a confused and likely illegal loop at the foot (or was it head) of the Whitestone Bridge. I too blamed my GPS. I too was saved by my sweep.

So kudos to Anonymous Ed for stepping up for the lead. Study your maps and set your GPS Fonz, I hereby publicly challenge you to lead next week's ride to Hooters. There are some nasty turns on the local roads after you exit I-80. If you like, I can ask Captain if he'll ride second. And we will all respect your authority . . . at least for the duration of the ride there and back.

Bob pic of the week.

Renegade sweep and leader Fonz, left, with never-cold Scott, right. What you see on Scott is the totality of his warm gear.

Scary parking lot for motorcycles.

John J. climbs the hill.

Captain earned his 60-point pin.

Chris did too.

Flight B Leaders Rich and Joan.

Ski slope parking.

It was . . .

. . . and some did!

Why, Oh Why?

Connecticut Bears in Freehold, NJ. We decided to take the group picture inside because it was raining outside.
From left: Captain, Grumpy and CT Blogger.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Freehold, NJ, December 18, 2016.

By: Chris Loynd, a.k.a. CT Blogger

Rain was forecast, and came. The day before we had almost six inches of snow in Connecticut. Our two hour ride, one way, was 90 percent interstate highway. Even though the temperature would warm to 50 degrees or more, at 60 mph that's still cold enough to require winter riding layers. On top of my gear I still need to wear my rain suit to stay dry. I was Michelin Man and then some. And as I was putting all that crap on Sunday morning I had one thought. "Why?"

Well it was a chance to spend a day on my motorcycle with my friends.

Yeah, it's maybe better on a sunny and warm day on some winding back roads. But Sunday offered none of those opportunities. Sunday offered highway riding in the rain . . . with my friends . . . on my motorcycle.

Like the tee-shirt says, "If I Have to Explain It, You Wouldn't Understand."

When I first started handling marketing for a local motorcycle dealership, Bridgeport Harley-Davidson, I had a reporter visiting and he kept asking the same question of everyone in the dealership. He kept getting the same answer from everyone, me, the owner, the general manager, the sales director, but was not satisfied. His questions was, "What's so special about riding a motorcycle?" Our answer was, "You just have to ride to know."

There's the responsiveness. You feel much closer to your machine than in a car. There's the camaraderie. A connection with others found in most every sport. There's the heritage. Harley-Davidson takes that to legendary levels. It is a feeling. It gets inside you.

We got lucky on the ride down to The Cabin in Freehold, N.J. No rain! Not even drizzle. Roads were even dry here and there.

In Connecticut we started out in fog due to our snow cover and unseasonably warm air. It's a phenomenon called an advection ground fog.

My first experience with advection fog is a pretty funny story. Many years ago, I was part of a traveling road show for soybean farmers. Our NYC ad agency created informative seminars for the American Soybean Association. We assembled a panel of experts of interest to soybean farmers: a commodities trader, a business finance guy and Dr. James Newman, eminent professor of meteorology from Purdue University.

It was an intense couple of weeks, town-to-town-to-town, different hotel every night, handholding the presenters, working the audience, handling logistics. We had just finished. It was Friday night, in a little Midwestern airport, and we were all anxious to be heading home.

We decided to have a celebratory drink as we waited for our plane. There was a little bar where you sat overlooking the runway through an enormous plate glass window. My more cosmopolitan compatriots were especially eager to get out of the sticks. They were not as comfortable in farm country as I was.

Here's an example. As we sat down MaryAnne ordered a Stolichnaya. The bartender said, "Huh?" I said, "MaryAnne, ask for a vodka rocks and hope they have Gilbey's." I settled for a Gordon's gin instead of my usual Tanqueray.

We sipped our drinks. We watched the planes come and go.  It was winter. Soybean farmers are too busy for seminars in the summer. There was a lot of snow pack. The runways were clear and dry though. And it was a freakishly warm day.

As we debated ordering a second round, Dr. Jim Newman joined us. "Go ahead and order another," he said, "You're not going anywhere tonight."

That was devastating news to my metropolitan companions. "Wha?"

Now this was before the internet and readily available forecasts on smart phones. We looked blankly at Dr. Jim and, being a professor, he was all too happy to explain, "You see, what we have here is an advective ground fog. As soon as the sun goes a little lower the snow will super cool the warm moist air above it and when it reaches dew point, a dense fog will start to form, hugging the ground."

I swear I saw fog forming as he spoke. It got thicker and thicker. It grew up from the ground. Our airport terminal bar was second story high and you could easily see over this rapidly forming fog blanket. I think you could have cleared the fog layer standing on a stepladder. From our second floor perch you could see for miles. But the runway itself was totally obscured.

No sooner did our second round of drinks arrive than the announcement came over the intercom, "All airport operations are suspended." The city girls' eyes bored into Professor Jim like it was his fault. He blithely babbled on about supersaturation.

Next thing we know an airline pilot joins us at the bar. "Why can't you take off?" MaryAnn scolded, "Heck the cockpit of the jet is sticking up above the fog. Once you're off the ground you have unrestricted visibility." The pilot explained a plane cannot take off unless it is able to turn around and land at the very same airport it just departed should anything go wrong. "You can't land if you can't see the runway," he said. Just then a FedEx plane landed, whump, right down into the fog, right in front of us. We all glared at the pilot. He read our minds. "Different rules for freight versus passenger planes," he said, "The freight pilot is allowed to risk his own life."

We spent yet another night eating hotel food and the next morning the sun's rays dissipated the fog in plenty of time for our Saturday morning flight to New York.

Last Sunday, our fog was thick on local roads but pretty thin up on the interstate. As the day went on, it disappeared completely. New Jersey did not have the snowpack Connecticut enjoyed.

Just three of us rode this Sunday. I took the lead, Captain was in the rocking chair and Grumpy swept. I teased Captain about me taking lead to ensure our speeds remained reasonable. Then at lunch Grumpy informed me I was just as guilty of "heading back to the barn" speed syndrome as anyone else. Well it is easier to criticize others in this blog than to face the man in the mirror. Fortunately I have my riding pals to keep me grounded. Cognitive dissonance being what it is, I was sure he was exaggerating all the same.

As we exited the restaurant our luck had run out. It was raining, not real hard, but steady. How's the saying go? "There's no bad weather, only poorly dressed adventurers." We were well-dressed for rain and rode in and out of it the rest of the way home. We never faced a downpour. So what is there really to complain about?

Well there were those times wet tar snakes tried to pull our bikes. It's a disconcerting feeling when the bike unexpectedly takes a quick skitter to one side or the other. One long snake tried to edge trap my front tire. The New Jersey Oranges were worst for rain and traffic.

I kept Grumpy's admonition in mind and kept a weather eye on my speedometer on our ride back up the Garden State Parkway. By golly, he's right. Here I am complaining about others when they have the lead, yet I could see that darn speed needle creeping up all on its own. Human nature is a powerful thing.

Starting out in the fog.

Arrival in Freehold, still mostly dry.

This was the toy run Sunday before Christmas to benefit a local New Jersey children's hospital.

Fortunately lots of bears came in cars despite the rain and there was plenty for the kiddies.

Uncharacteristically empty.

Festive Flight A.

Bob photo of the week.

Captain peruses the bill of fare . . .

. . . so does Chris.

Our friendly waitress.

Wet departure.

Join us after New Year's; it's fun!

Hillybilly Hall and Broadway Lights

Hopewell Bears, from left, Fonz, Captain, John J., Pogy (down front), Mac, and standoffish to the right our New Yorkers Jim and LD Diva.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, ride to Hillybilly Hall, Hopewell, NJ, November 22, 2015.

Editor's note from Chris Loynd:

I had to work Sunday, representing The Maritime Aquarium at The Chocolate Expo at the Meadowlands Exposition Center in New Jersey. Looks like the Connecticut Bears had a great ride, however some miscommunication left our New York wing a bit miffed. They showed how miffed they were in the usual New York way . . . but I retouched the photos.

Our booth at the Chocolate Expo kept me from riding Sunday. But coworker Cara Kenefick and I worked a 7,000 person crowd on behalf of The Maritime Aquarium at Norwalk, Connecticut, where I am Marketing Director and get us into these crazy obligations in the first place. The Aquarium will take a few more Sundays this season.

So this Sunday's guest blogger is Captain and here is his report:

By: Captain K.

Today's riders were John J., Mac M., Fonz, Pogy and John K.

Also ran, James M. and Joanna W.

Today was another mild day for us Polar Bears of CT. I arrived at the DD at 0730. At 0740 John J. arrived and we had coffee while catching up. Around 0750 Pogy called to check in that he would be at Darien RS at 0850 for the ride, as Mac pulled in to the lot. The Fonz showed up at 0815.

As we gathered in the lot getting ready to leave I asked Mac if he would lead the ride. After listening to him go on about getting lost with his H-D GPS I decided to lead  with Mac as sweep. We left promptly at 0830 southbound on I-95. At 0850 we reached the Darien RS and with the help of the on ramp downgrade Pogy was able to eventually join the group. We cruised on to I-287 making great time as their were no stops / pickups. Continuing south we arrived at our destination about 1030. The sponsor of our new early departure program (EDP) Pogy was making the rounds as the clock was ticking, so I offered to get the table. 

After checking in we finished our coffee and paid the bill. Just then Jim and Joanna arrived. Joanna was surprised that I did not stop for them. I said that no one called so we drove on by. I realized I was in the presence of royalty when Joanna offered me her number to call her next time. I told "Princess Joanna" that it's not personal, just tough love. We left and they stayed for lunch.

Please accept this nomination of Princess Joanna into the CTPB Hall of Names.

We stopped at the top for coffee and I was home by 1500.

Polar Bear Photographer Bernard Walsh caught our group arriving at Hillybilly Hall.

New Yorkers Jim and Johanna forgot to let us know they were patiently waiting at the bus stop to join the group.

The New Yorkers expressed their concern with the usual New York delicacy.

Jim and Johanna salved their wounded pride in typical NYC fashion: dinner and a show!

Okay Princess Diva, as I always say in my weekly departure time e-mail, "If we're picking you up en route be sure to let me or the Captain know." See you next Sunday! XXOO

Flemington, NJ; April 1, 2012, Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog

Polar Bear Blog, April 1, 2012, Flemington, NJ.

By: Chris Loynd

After Captain's storied ride leadership debacle last week, he adamantly refused to lead this Sunday.

Mac wasn't going to touch it and Fonz had already claimed the sweep position when I rode up to join them at the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford.

Since it appeared I had no choice, I volunteered.

I had anticipated and prepared. The night before I loaded the destination in my GPS. Then I took a look at the location, Cheeburger, Cheeburger, on Google Maps. Ah, yes, I remember this from last year. This place is tucked deep in a shopping center located at the center of a complex of shopping centers all served by a maniacal New Jersey traffic roundabout.

Did you hear the story about the old farmer who came to town and drove his beat up old pickup truck into one of these New Jersey circular traffic controls?

Upon entering the roundabout, he made the mistake of moving to the inside lane. As his exit came up he tried to move across but a line of cars monopolized outside lane and the farmer meekly held to the center. He figured to exit the next time around, but just then a wankin' big SUV with a phone chatting driver nearly hit him.

The poor old guy figured to make it on the next go-round. As he came up the exit the car tailgating him suddenly swooped out and flipped him the bird as it powered off the farmer's exit. Leaving the poor farmer still on the inside.

Exasperated, the old guy saw his chance and pulled into a gas station that was located on the roundabout. It wasn't his exit, but he needed to gather his wits.

No sooner did he come to a stop then five guys came running out of the station. They pumped his gas, cleaned his windshield, changed his two outside tires, then one of the guys stuck his head into the truck's open window, handed the farmer a cold drink and shouted, "Get back in there old man, you're running in second place!"

I led a quiet and steady ride right up to our destination. Then I hit those roundabouts.

My GPS showed a diagram of the madness and counseled me to take the sixth roundabout exit.

Watch the traffic, the bikes behind me, the cars cutting into our line, and here we go. One, two, three, four, five, six, signal and exit. Dang!

I chose wrong.

Mr. Garmin must have meant six AFTER entering. Or was it six INCLUDING the one on which you entered? And I can't judge 200 feet if you held a gun to my head. Is it this one or the next? They both looked to be within a few hundred feet. And who puts seven or eight exits on one roundabout in the first place? Only in New Jersey where they have an absolute fear of left hand turns and thereby invented roundabouts and jug handles.

All the bikes tumbled in behind me. We were on the wrong road. Well I know we gotta be close. I was tempted to climb up on the Harley's saddle to see if I couldn't spot the dang destination. A visual bearing might have been helpful about now. Instead I was stuck with the little picture on my Garmin which was madly recalculating a fall-back route. I found myself and my five companions sitting at a stop light. Then the Garmin showed me that just to my left and slightly behind me was the road I truly wanted.

At first I figured to go right when the light turned green and recalculate again. Then I decided to make a u-turn and hard right. Yes I did! Despite my own ride leading debacle back at the Whitestone Bridge a few weeks back, I signaled and moved. This time nobody collided or fell.

Another couple jigs and jags and we found ourselves pulling into the parking lot of Cheeburger, Cheeburger.

Whew! As we dismounted I let out a sigh of relief and braced for the onslaught. My fellow riders did not disappoint and chided and teased me.

Captain thanked me for getting him off the hook for his last week's disaster. But it didn't last. He no sooner entered the restaurant 'till our Polar Bear Grand Tour leaders greeted him with pokes in the ribs, kicks to the shins and assaults on his ego.

You gotta have some thick skin to get out in front of this group and take them for a ride.