Montgomeryville, Penn.; December 6, 2009
30 degrees to start “warming” to 40 under, a bright sky
Cold came to Connecticut. Winter rewarded us with a beautiful Polar Bear ride. Looks like we might keep Ralphie after all.
Long Island Sound, by its sheer volume of relatively warm waters, kept any snow from accumulating near my home in Stratford, Conn. Big, wet flakes fell. But they didn't last. Only a few managed to coat cold surfaces like parked cars.
It was not until we headed north that we saw snow on the ground. As we crossed over the Tappan Zee Bridge the far heights were painted in snow. It got more beautiful as we entered the mountains of New Jersey on Interstate 78 west. This was a wet snow and so it clung to every surface. Every tree's branch and twig was highlighted. Seeing it from the back of a motorcycle was a very fine experience, very fine.
We left the Dunkin' in Stratford with six bikes. A new rider, Dave, met us there. Fonz invited him. Dave was on a brand new Harley dresser, just 600-some miles on the odometer.
We picked up another Fonz friend at the Darien rest stop as we headed south. Ron was also on board a Harley.
We picked up two more, Token and Bart, at the Tappan Zee Bridge.
Grumpy was lead. Chris, your blogger, was sweep.
Is there something especially self indulgent about SUV owners? Somehow I suspect so. In addition to taking up more than their fair share of space and natural resources, they also seem the most egregious when it comes to not clearing snow off their roofs. They blithely fly down the highway with mini blizzards in their wake, or slabs of ice and snow flying off their machines, or they dump mini drifts at stoplights. All these are special hazards for us winter motorcycle riders.
There was some discussion in our group as to police discouragement of such boorish behavior, but I suspect the cops pursue snow top infractions with the same vigor as driving while cellphoning.
Just wait boys. When the big snows come the real danger is from tractor-trailer trucks. These morons throw off sheet-of-plywood sized slabs of ice from their roofs and drop rock-hard slushbergs from their mudflaps as they go their merry way. Last year someone in a car was killed in Connecticut by such malfeasance.
Nine bikes in total, we ran steady and true and continually to our destination. Only when encountering a few stoplights on 309 did we put our feet down. Despite a few ugly bouts with entropy, we reformed in the end, reaching Polar Bear sign-in with bone dry tanks and bulging bladders. In retrospect Grumpy and I both thought an interim stop may have been advisable.
For one thing, it was cold in the morning. I was almost comfortably cold on the ride over. Fooled by the forecast, I took a chance on my “geeze it's cold” level of protection.
By way of explanation, I am prepared for four levels of Polar Bear riding. Level one is “too warm.” Level two is “nice.” Level three is “geeze it's cold,” Level four is “damn it's really cold.” There is a level five, “holy crap cold.” Nobody can put on enough layers or run a big enough alternator for that level cold.
I have ridden in level 5 by the way. The only defense is to stop every so many miles and thaw out your frozen parts.
The various levels are difficult for me because of my bike setup. I do not have big fiberglass tubs bolted all over my bike like the guys on dressers. My leather saddlebags hold only so much. And clothing is bulky.
My strategy is to make my best guess and then tough it out because I invariably guess wrong. Plus any given Polar Bear ride can vary by one, sometimes even two, levels of cold during the ride itself.
“Geeze it's cold” meant I had not yet strapped hippo hands over the handlebar grips. I figured it might be iffy, but wanted to give my new Gerbing gloves a good testing. They just about kept up with the cold and wind. I had them cranked so high for so long they gave me a little burn blister on the back of my left hand.
Inside my hippo hands (level four), I can actually wear only the heated glove liners. That's Grumpy's tactic. He usually deploys his hippo hands early. Polar bear riding is all about the wind.
“Geeze it's cold” also meant I trusted my Gerbing jacket. It too, does not hold up to the full onslaught of a “damn it's cold” ride. That level of cold requires me to wear my heated jacket liner underneath my Gerbing jacket. As an interim measure, I tried wearing my rain jacket over my Gerbing jacket to block more wind. Even so I was on the edge of discomfort.
Fortunately for my legs I had, I thought, overcompensated with “damn” level protection. That means an extra pair of polypropylene long johns on top of the silks and Bergelenes. The poly johns are very effective at blocking wind penetration.
My toes did not do as well. My boots were one level too low on the cold scale Sunday. But, like the new gloves, I had to test the limits of the new boots. I was able to score a full kilo of Thinuslate in this pair. Still, it was not enough. My next level cold protection is a pair of snowmobile boots rated to something like 40 below. These, with a one, sometimes even two, chemical heat packs keep my toes toasty even at “holy crap cold” level riding.
There are rewards and liabilities riding in a group. One of the liabilities is not being able to stop whenever you want, instead depending upon the philosophy of the lead rider.
Still we survived. I do not think I was cold as some of the new guys who did not have electrics. We loaned them some chemical heat packs for their ride home.
Meanwhile, Montgomeryville Cycle warmed us well with free with chili and brownies, doughnuts and hot coffee. There was plenty, but then we arrived, and left early. Still, I think the weather probably kept the crowd at a manageable level.
We had a couple more riders earn their Polar Bear props this ride, including Bart receiving his first patch. Now, in addition to earning the Grand Tour patch, there is a unique Connecticut Polar Bear patch. Grumpy had them made and awarded his first to a new CT Polar Bear Sunday. To get one of our patches, you must first earn the Grand Tour patch, and of course ride with the CT Bears.
While we currently count Ron as a Harley rider, he was overheard trading information with a Gold Wing salesman at Montgomeryville Cycle Center. As Fonz tells it, if it were not for Pennsylvania's blue laws, Ron may have ridden a Gold Wing home. I guess he doesn't fool around when it comes to making up his mind. Or maybe he was thinking about the Wing's heated seat and grips and the nifty toe warmers that divert engine heat to your feetsies.
At Montgomeryville we found out that the new riders joining us Sunday were both coworkers of Fonz, which means they are part of Norwalk, Conn.'s finest. Dave perhaps will be Norwalk's first motorcycle patrol officer. That's a very good thing. First because we can never have enough motorcycle cops. Second because of the two new guys, Ron exhibited a penchant for oncoming traffic. (As I told Token last week, you see everything from the sweep position.)
At one point on the way home, a New Jersey state trooper came up in the penultimate passing lane (we were in the farthest passing lane) and paced us for a while. He then drove on. At Chez GSP there was a discussion as to whether we were persons of interest to the trooper.
We made a new CT Polar Bear group riding policy right then and there, passed by a popular vote. If a police officer ever activates his lights to pull our group over, one of the proliferation of Norwalk cops who now ride with us is to pull to the shoulder immediately while the rest of us ride on.
Showing posts with label bart cole. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bart cole. Show all posts
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Hopewell, NJ; November 22, 2009
Once again your blogger was NOT present for the Polar Bear ride. (May have trouble getting that gold rocker again this year!) This last Sunday my "excuse" was a wonderful weekend-plus getaway with the wife to Gettysburg.
It was the 146th anniversary of the Gettysburg Address, delivered November 19, 1863. The occasion is commemorated with Civil War reenactors and a luminary display in the cemetery. You can see more photos on my Facebook page, but I thought it was okay for me to share just a few here.
I visited the battlefield as a teenager. It was wonderful to see it once again, now from an adult perspective. I was reading Longstreet's memoirs then walking the very same ground. Here and there on the battlefield reenactors drilled, their drums and bands echoing among forlorn hills now traipsed by tourists.
The whole event was something like a bike rally. People were walking around everywhere in funny clothes, united by a common interest. Just like wearing chaps at a bike rally, where else can you wear hoop skirts and braided epaulets on the street all day?
I commented in shock to my wife at the cost of an authentic civil war uniform coat, some three hundred bucks for something you can wear only for special occasions! Cynthia just laughed, "I know someone who has spent far more on specialized clothing with limited uses."
50 degrees and sunny
Of course I know you are more interested in the adventures of Connecticut Polar Bears who actually go on the rides! Fortunately my fellow riders still provide correspondent reports, even when it takes me more than a week to post them. Here John Howard provides a fun account with plenty of inside jokes. We call John "Token," not because he is an American with a British accent, but because he rides a Honda ST amongst our Harley crowd. Such is even fodder for this week's entry.
Here is John Howard's report . . .
Report by John Howard, Headlines:
It was the 146th anniversary of the Gettysburg Address, delivered November 19, 1863. The occasion is commemorated with Civil War reenactors and a luminary display in the cemetery. You can see more photos on my Facebook page, but I thought it was okay for me to share just a few here.
I visited the battlefield as a teenager. It was wonderful to see it once again, now from an adult perspective. I was reading Longstreet's memoirs then walking the very same ground. Here and there on the battlefield reenactors drilled, their drums and bands echoing among forlorn hills now traipsed by tourists.
The whole event was something like a bike rally. People were walking around everywhere in funny clothes, united by a common interest. Just like wearing chaps at a bike rally, where else can you wear hoop skirts and braided epaulets on the street all day?
I commented in shock to my wife at the cost of an authentic civil war uniform coat, some three hundred bucks for something you can wear only for special occasions! Cynthia just laughed, "I know someone who has spent far more on specialized clothing with limited uses."
50 degrees and sunny
Of course I know you are more interested in the adventures of Connecticut Polar Bears who actually go on the rides! Fortunately my fellow riders still provide correspondent reports, even when it takes me more than a week to post them. Here John Howard provides a fun account with plenty of inside jokes. We call John "Token," not because he is an American with a British accent, but because he rides a Honda ST amongst our Harley crowd. Such is even fodder for this week's entry.
Here is John Howard's report . . .
Report by John Howard, Headlines:
- Kammerer kisses Curtis
- Howard and Cole Harley/Honda tiff settled in Hillybilly parking lot
- Nick spends 13th birthday with Grandpa and CTPBs; charges of cruel and unusual punishment are pending
- CT Blogger flagged over English language comments
The sun greeted the Connecticut Bears for the ride to Hopewell, though the temperature started on the cool side (about 40 degrees F), it quickly rose to above 50 degrees, peaking at 56.
Johns B., K., and J., Nick, Russ, Bernie, Ralph and Bart assembled at the Stratford Dunkin' Donuts as usual and made good speed to pick up John H. at the Tappan Zee Bridge bang on time at 9:45 a.m.
Johnny B. with Nick in pillion was the lead with John J. bringing up the rear as sweep after a bruising series of reports (mostly unjustified) on his lead ride on week four.
The ride south on the Interstate system was uneventful with numerous state troopers spotted along the way. The fun started after the turn on to Route 206 south when the CT bears found themselves being squeezed by a long train of NJ Bears as the road narrowed from two lanes down to one lane.
Mixed into the front of the NJ Bear phalanx things were a little sticky until the CT Bears assembled single file on the left track and the NJ Bears moved off to the right side to stop to reform. Sorted out, the CT Bears continued south and after a stop light found themselves behind another large group of NJ Bears and with the other NJ group behind at one point there must have been 60 bikes in formation heading south, quite a sight.
At an intersection the assemblage came to a rather sudden stop that caught the Captain out just a little which resulted in his bike kissing the back of a bag on Russ' new ride. (I never meant to imply their lips ever touched, that would be disgusting and way too horrible to contemplate.) The Captain wobbled some but thankfully stayed upright. The final 10 miles were a slow paced stop and go intersection riddle tour of the NJ countryside, but otherwise uneventful.
Hillybilly Hall was packed to the gills on our punctual arrival at 11:30 a.m. Seeing John B. lead the group to the way yonder boonies, John H. and John J. thought better of it and found a couple of spots up at the front lot, wandering down the stoned back to find the group. The choice of parking spot by Johnny B. drew some well chosen words from a certain ex-submariner, though the choice for the leader was rather limited.
Bart, who had been YELLING his opinion via e-mail on the attributes of the trusted STeed (get it?) of John H., greeted him with a Polar Bear hug in reconciliation. Riding sporty V-twins is a desire of the author which was again unrequited due to the dismal reliability of the Buell Uly. Oh well, perhaps next week that fine piece of engineering will be road worthy.
Editor's Note: For those who did not see the e-mail traffic, here is what Bart said about John H. comments about John's Buell Ulysses.
As an owner of many Japanese motorcycles and cars in my life, all I can say is . . . BORING!!! As one Harley owning friend of mine once said after riding my 1986 Honda Magna V65 or whatever the (heck) it was, "It's like kissing your grandmother." I couldn't have described it better myself.
My Harleys have given me no problemos at all. The torque and the attitude are second to none. I've yet to find one piece of plastic on mine as well.
Be fair to HD Mr. Howard, they own Buell but do not manufacture them!
Editor's Note: Bart was responding to THIS post from John H.
Another thing that will be absent for possibly 5 to 10 years is my Uly, it is not the intake seals, ECM, O2 sensor, temperature sensor or induction system that is causing my EFI running problem so it remains in the shop…Conn. Statute Chapter 743b, section 42-179 is an emerging possibility as lemons should be confined to use in gin and tonics. All future motorcycle purchases will be from the islands of Japan, sorry fellas no Harley will ever grace my garage though I do believe HD/Buell Danbury are doing their best.
Editor's Note: Back to John H. report of Hopewell ride.
Sign-in was relatively smooth given the crowds and John B. corralled a table for 10, adopted CT Bear Matt included, to participate in lunch.
Bernie left his ordered scribbled on a napkin and departed for the line for the loo (a.k.a. men's room, just trying to broaden the group's vocabulary). Meanwhile John K. just upped and left for the same destination while Russ made other arrangements to relieve himself.
On Russ' return, the order for food was placed except for you know who, no order available and still in line as the server lamented that she could not put the food order in until all the table had identified what they wanted.
Captain K. returned to the table and was roundly heckled for his lack of group awareness and to make matters worse he ordered a chicken Caesar salad. Jeez, there was a time when CT Bears were real men!!
By this time Ralph was wondering if riding with the CT Bears was the wisest choice he could be making for his future, but after being regaled with tales of the mishaps his fellow but absent MSF Instructor has had over the years, he is going to give it more time.
Johnny B. made the group aware that Nick was celebrating his 13th birthday which was cheered by the group however a rendition of "Happy Birthday to You" was not forthcoming. What a shame for the new teenager. It occurred to me that having such a fresh face in this group of gnarly old geezers was a brutal way to introduce Nick into his teenage years, when a growing awareness of one's influence on the world and sensitivity to the needs of others should flourish. CT Bears as lunch companions and role models would qualify as cruel and unusual punishment for a birthday boy. Always great to have you along Nick and enjoy your teenage years!
The conversation meandered to the subject of the CT Blog and the CT Blogger who offered a critique of the submissions from the Week 4 Bears. It is believed that three or more submissions were made and such a difficult task was it to untangle the muddled English that the final report remains a work in progress. CT Blogger was flagged for inappropriate use of certain punctuation marks in his e-mail of November 19th by the wife of a Week 5 Bear who apparently graduated with a degree majoring in the English language.
The matter remains open and is unlikely to be settled until CT Blogger can rejoin the group. It is hoped that a resolution can be found without punches being thrown, however, the number of ride reports for Week 5 presented for consideration is expected to decline from the peak observed in Week 4.
Hillybilly Hall was in the rear view mirror by about 1:15 p.m., the northbound trip commenced with a pleasant tour of the back roads of central New Jersey leading to Interstate 287, 78 and the Garden State Parkway with a customary stop at the Montvale Services.
Bart was the payer on this occasion but refused to serve the group as a consequence of the roasting John H. received a couple of weeks before. He need not have been worried as the beverages were delivered without fault and in perfect order; this led to the conclusion that it was the ordering technique of the newest, but as yet defective, American that had created prior problems. Let it be known that the defective American has sworn off making any future group beverage purchases.
The group did the usual thing at the Tappan Zee Bridge on the way east and so ended this chapter in the CT Bear season of 2009.
(If I don't get at least a B+ for this I am going to go see the Principal.)
Report from Grumpy:
Here are this week's photos. Group shot by J.B. most of the others by Nick B.
(Editor's note: A few portraits were also sent by Bart.)
Report for Sunday's ride: We showed up, we went there for lunch, on the way home we stopped for coffee. It was a nice day to ride.
Next Ride:
Chris here.
Our next ride is to Schoch's Harley-Davidson.
This is the site of my very first Polar Bear ride and you can read that story on my blog:http://www.influentialcom.com/polar_bear_story.htm
It was also the last motorcycle ride of our friend Clark Makinson. You can read about Clark on my blog too:http://www.influentialcom.com/polar_bear_clark_m.htm
Mapquest says the ride is 2 hours, 45 minutes, and 146 miles one way.
Therefore let's figure on a departure time of 9:00 a.m. from the Dunkin' Donuts in Stratford, CT.
That Dunkin' is the one just off Interstate 95, Exit 30, at the corner of Lordship Boulevard and Honeyspot Road.
All are welcome to join us. However I believe the Polar Bear Grand Tour has reached its limit of 550 registered participants. You can still ride, but will have to wait until next year to earn the coveted Polar Bear patch.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Port Jervis, N.Y., November 15, 2009
60's early, 70's later; morning drizzle, sunny afternoon
Blogger's Note:
Unfortunately your blogger Chris Loynd was busy at The Maritime Aquarium this Sunday. I was working with a troop of Girl Scouts from Monroe to build a wigwam to promote our showing of "Where the Wild Things Are" appearing now in IMAX.
So I put out an invitation to my fellow Connecticut Bears for correspondent reports. Here, with a bit of minor editing, are their reports.
From Captain John Kammerer:
We had a good turnout for Port Jervis, N.Y. Roll call in order of appearance were: Russ, Johns K., J. and B., Bernie, Rollin (Rolly) Dawlin, Steve D., William (Billy) Gargone, John H., Bart, and Matt G. (Full names provided for our new riders.)
We formed up and departed Dunkin' Donuts at 9 a.m. sharp with John J. taking the lead and John K. as sweep. Heading south on Interstate 95, the route turned onto Route 25 north into Newtown, Conn.
(Editor's Note: Newtown retains a bit of its Yankee charm with a flagpole right in the middle of main street. Here the Conn. Bears turned right and a short distance down the road merged onto Interstate 84 west at speed.)
John J. took exit 2B to pick up our more northerly members, the group arriving at 9:45 on the dot with John H. and Bart scrambling to get going.
Once the two final bears finally caught up, John J. settled the group into a steady pace west for the Delaware River.
We encountered fog at mile marker 57 in New York. It lasted for two to three miles. Visibility was a hundred feet or so.
The group navigated the mist without mishap arriving at Cornucopia at 11:10 a.m. Adopted Conn. Bear Matt was there already and after the group photo by John B., we went inside to check-in and have lunch.
As sweep I was trying to keep track of everyone. (Editor's note: The Captain takes his Road Captain duties very seriously.) During lunch I was looking everywhere for Steve D. and finally realized he bailed without saying a word to anyone. (Editor's note: Considered poor Polar Bear manners when riding in a group.)
At 12:15 we left the restaurant and headed to the gas stop on the New Jersey side and yes, John H. was right about the crash site!
After fueling we headed east on Interstate 84 to our pit stop at the Starbucks in Danbury, Conn., exit 2, arriving at 1:30 p.m. This week John J. treated.
John H. split off at Interstate 684 to head for Ridgefield. Billy G. left after coffee.
We were on the road eastbound by 2:10 and Bart split off at Route 7 north. From Interstate 84 the group took the more scenic Route 34 south. I arrived home at about 2:50 p.m.
It was a great day with good company and I managed to piss off everyone by noon.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Next report from a first-season Connecticut Bear . . .
From Bart Cole:
Because of the early morning rain and wet roadways, I had decided to leave a little later and hook up with John H. at exit 2. After receiving my text with my change of plans, John H. called John K. to let him know that I would not be coming down to Stratford and not to wait. John K.'s response to the Token (John H.) was basically, "what the hell do I care!" It's just so nice to be loved and embraced by John K.!
Then when the boyz rolled down exit 2 to meet up with John and I, upon being waved into the pack I didn't give my Dyna Low Rider enough throttle and proceeded to stall the engine. John K. took note of this as he saw me rolling back to restart my bike. We rode through some dense fog in spots on I-84.
We had some major issues at the Newburgh Bridge toll. The EZ-Pass wasn't reading our tags and the toll booth attendant proceeded to give some of the guys a hard time for trying to drive through. John J., Russ, Grumpy and myself made it through and had to wait for a good five minutes plus for the others to rejoin the ranks.
Stopped at the Starbucks off exit 2 on the way back. John J. treated everyone to their favorite beverage. Grumpy didn't care for his hot chocolate. He claimed it tasted like a dark or semi-sweet cocoa.
I'm sure the others will fill you in on some of the other events. Some guy, I think named Steve, rode up with us and then disappeared without telling anyone!
The day was so short that I didn't know what to do with myself when I got home so early.
Even Russ busted on you in your absence for you propensity to take forever to get your gear on and be ready to roll after we stop. Russ was being Russ!
You were missed Chris!
From one of our founding Connecticut Bears, everyone's favorite people person, Grumpy . . .
From Johnny Bowlan:
Hi Chris! I hope your project went well. We missed you.
We had 10 bikes and riders today. Weather was great; we needed no heated gear at all.
The ride up was good. We had to stop only once for a red light. John J. did well for his second, maybe third, time leading the group.
Ten bikes may be too much. Next time we might want to break it up into two groups.
We got there after 11:00, stood around shooting the (stuff) and took the group photo.
Lunch was edible. The menu included: French toast, chili and rice, something the server said was mini-sausage meatloaf, a chicken dish and mac and cheese.
About 12:30 we headed out to New Jersey for gas, missing Steve D. He left after taking the group shot.
Then toward home we went. We had some problems at the toll on Interstate 84. It took a little while for everyone to get through. Guess this is another toll road we can't use.
(Editor's note: We have had troubles before on the last parkway toll before the GW Bridge. Captain had a famous gate-busting adventure there a few years back.)
We lost the Brit at exit 2 as we got off for coffee.
No Dunkin' Donuts, so it was Starbucks. It was a small place so we got our drinks and went outside to chat.
We then saddled up for home, losing people along the way.
It was a NICE day, there I go using four letter words again.
Next report from this week's ride leader.All paragraph and sentence breaks are best guess estimates by the blog editor . . .
From John Jackson:
Hello Blog-master,
Sunday morning arrived a little misty and 58 degrees. Side roads were covered with slippery, wet leaves, so the ride to Dunkin' Donuts was slow and steady. That will be an important standard for the day.
When I got to Dunkin' Russ and John K. were enjoying their hot beverage of choice already. John K. informed me that this Dunkin' Donuts was now offering Same Day Service. So I took them up on it, and damned if it wasn't true! I got a muffin and a cappuccino within five minutes!
By the time I got back, Bernie and Rollie had arrived. Later came Steve D., who was greeted appropriately by Russ, Johnny B. and finally Bill.
John K. asked, to no-one in particular, looking at Russ and I, "Who's leading today?" Russ answered in the negative, so, by default, I said I would. I had it in my GPS.
John K. and I briefly discussed the route to the meeting point on Interstate 84 where we were picking up John H. and Bart. Taking Interstate 95 to Route 25 to Newtown to Interstate 84 was the preferred route.
Promptly at 9 a.m. we lined up and off we went. As I was reading my GPS, I noticed the "arrive" time was 11 a.m. So I planned to keep the pace on the moderate side after we picked up our two northern polar bears, which we did at precisely 9:45.
Onto Interstate 84 west, the train of 10 bikes sauntered. Speed limit 65 mph, I set my cruise control at 64.
Weather was gray with some hint of sun breaking through off to the southwest. But up ahead it was just clouds. We rode through a cloud going up one one those mountains. Visibility was next to nil, so I kept the pace down a little.
I didn't want to slow down too much to prevent riders from bunching up unexpectedly. And I stayed in the lane we were in because I sure as heck could not see my sweep John K. in my mirrors. If he was clearing a lane for me, I couldn't tell.
After about a mile of clouds, we broke through. I do NOT like not being able to see ahead!
I cranked the speed back up to a blistering 63 mph and the GPS still says "arrive" at 11:01.
We got stuck behind a creepy crawling Toyota Camry on the Newburg bridge, doing about 45 to 50 mph. I saw this as an opportunity to knock our arrival time back a notch or two, so I stayed behind, later to be ragged-on mercilessly by our Captain when we arrived and unsaddled at 11:10.
John K. is the best sweep that I have ridden with. He just KNOWS when you want to change lanes. I look in my mirror for a lane change and he is already there, waiting for me to turn on my signal. Perhaps this is why he was so fast to comment on why I stayed behind that slow poke on the bridge.
Anyway, we arrived, all 10 of us, early.
Bob Hartpence (Polar Bear Chairman) was out in the parking lot and came over to say hello. We took the group shot, Johnny B. having figured out his new camera's timer mechanism. Then we went to sign-in and have a lunch a litle before 11:30.
The buffet this year was pretty good: chili, biscuits and gravy, mac and cheese, little meatloaf patties in gravy and some sort of chicken thing, all very edible.
During lunch I asked where Steve D. was. Nobody had seen hide nor hair of him. When we finished lunch and went outside, I, being the leader, searched down the line of bikes where we parked and noticed that Steve's custom painted Fat Boy was no longer there. Some metric cruiser of a similar color was parked where Steve's bike used to be. John K. asked where Steve was. Nobody had heard from him. The evidence pointed to him no longer being anywhere near the Cornucopia anymore, so I felt secure in leaving as a group of nine, knowing the tenth had gone on by himself.
The ride back was at a more brisk pace, more like my speed, cruise control set higher and throttled up to pass the occasional slow moving truck.
Back at Port Jervis it had been decided that we would stop for coffee at Starbucks in Danbury, off Exit 2, which we did. John H., having to be home early, rode on. And Bill left before we went to get coffee.
I treated, with the caveat that if you wanted anything special, you would have to pay for it yourself. Of course Johnny B. took this to mean I would not buy him his hot chocolate. But I calmed him down with the explanation that "special" meant lattes, cappuccinos and espresso drinks. Bernie slipped a frappuchino by me anyway!
So after we were all properly juiced up with Starbucks caffeine enriched coffee we continued on our way.
Bart took off up Route 7 and various others slipping out of my slipstream as we wound our way back down Route 34, arriving home at 3:10 on a 70 degree afternoon.
The day was very enjoyable. John K. exaggerates his power to piss off. I think he does an admirable job. But we all look forward to it, the same way we look forward to Russ' crude innuendo.
That's MY story, and I'm sticking to it.
Finally, here is Russ' report . . .
From Russ:
John K. missed me. I don't think I was pissed off all day. I did miss Chris not showing 'till the last second.
Blogger's Note:
Unfortunately your blogger Chris Loynd was busy at The Maritime Aquarium this Sunday. I was working with a troop of Girl Scouts from Monroe to build a wigwam to promote our showing of "Where the Wild Things Are" appearing now in IMAX.
So I put out an invitation to my fellow Connecticut Bears for correspondent reports. Here, with a bit of minor editing, are their reports.
From Captain John Kammerer:
We had a good turnout for Port Jervis, N.Y. Roll call in order of appearance were: Russ, Johns K., J. and B., Bernie, Rollin (Rolly) Dawlin, Steve D., William (Billy) Gargone, John H., Bart, and Matt G. (Full names provided for our new riders.)
We formed up and departed Dunkin' Donuts at 9 a.m. sharp with John J. taking the lead and John K. as sweep. Heading south on Interstate 95, the route turned onto Route 25 north into Newtown, Conn.
(Editor's Note: Newtown retains a bit of its Yankee charm with a flagpole right in the middle of main street. Here the Conn. Bears turned right and a short distance down the road merged onto Interstate 84 west at speed.)
John J. took exit 2B to pick up our more northerly members, the group arriving at 9:45 on the dot with John H. and Bart scrambling to get going.
Once the two final bears finally caught up, John J. settled the group into a steady pace west for the Delaware River.
We encountered fog at mile marker 57 in New York. It lasted for two to three miles. Visibility was a hundred feet or so.
The group navigated the mist without mishap arriving at Cornucopia at 11:10 a.m. Adopted Conn. Bear Matt was there already and after the group photo by John B., we went inside to check-in and have lunch.
As sweep I was trying to keep track of everyone. (Editor's note: The Captain takes his Road Captain duties very seriously.) During lunch I was looking everywhere for Steve D. and finally realized he bailed without saying a word to anyone. (Editor's note: Considered poor Polar Bear manners when riding in a group.)
At 12:15 we left the restaurant and headed to the gas stop on the New Jersey side and yes, John H. was right about the crash site!
After fueling we headed east on Interstate 84 to our pit stop at the Starbucks in Danbury, Conn., exit 2, arriving at 1:30 p.m. This week John J. treated.
John H. split off at Interstate 684 to head for Ridgefield. Billy G. left after coffee.
We were on the road eastbound by 2:10 and Bart split off at Route 7 north. From Interstate 84 the group took the more scenic Route 34 south. I arrived home at about 2:50 p.m.
It was a great day with good company and I managed to piss off everyone by noon.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Next report from a first-season Connecticut Bear . . .
From Bart Cole:
Because of the early morning rain and wet roadways, I had decided to leave a little later and hook up with John H. at exit 2. After receiving my text with my change of plans, John H. called John K. to let him know that I would not be coming down to Stratford and not to wait. John K.'s response to the Token (John H.) was basically, "what the hell do I care!" It's just so nice to be loved and embraced by John K.!
Then when the boyz rolled down exit 2 to meet up with John and I, upon being waved into the pack I didn't give my Dyna Low Rider enough throttle and proceeded to stall the engine. John K. took note of this as he saw me rolling back to restart my bike. We rode through some dense fog in spots on I-84.
We had some major issues at the Newburgh Bridge toll. The EZ-Pass wasn't reading our tags and the toll booth attendant proceeded to give some of the guys a hard time for trying to drive through. John J., Russ, Grumpy and myself made it through and had to wait for a good five minutes plus for the others to rejoin the ranks.
Stopped at the Starbucks off exit 2 on the way back. John J. treated everyone to their favorite beverage. Grumpy didn't care for his hot chocolate. He claimed it tasted like a dark or semi-sweet cocoa.
I'm sure the others will fill you in on some of the other events. Some guy, I think named Steve, rode up with us and then disappeared without telling anyone!
The day was so short that I didn't know what to do with myself when I got home so early.
Even Russ busted on you in your absence for you propensity to take forever to get your gear on and be ready to roll after we stop. Russ was being Russ!
You were missed Chris!
From one of our founding Connecticut Bears, everyone's favorite people person, Grumpy . . .
From Johnny Bowlan:
Hi Chris! I hope your project went well. We missed you.
We had 10 bikes and riders today. Weather was great; we needed no heated gear at all.
The ride up was good. We had to stop only once for a red light. John J. did well for his second, maybe third, time leading the group.
Ten bikes may be too much. Next time we might want to break it up into two groups.
We got there after 11:00, stood around shooting the (stuff) and took the group photo.
Lunch was edible. The menu included: French toast, chili and rice, something the server said was mini-sausage meatloaf, a chicken dish and mac and cheese.
About 12:30 we headed out to New Jersey for gas, missing Steve D. He left after taking the group shot.
Then toward home we went. We had some problems at the toll on Interstate 84. It took a little while for everyone to get through. Guess this is another toll road we can't use.
(Editor's note: We have had troubles before on the last parkway toll before the GW Bridge. Captain had a famous gate-busting adventure there a few years back.)
We lost the Brit at exit 2 as we got off for coffee.
No Dunkin' Donuts, so it was Starbucks. It was a small place so we got our drinks and went outside to chat.
We then saddled up for home, losing people along the way.
It was a NICE day, there I go using four letter words again.
Next report from this week's ride leader.All paragraph and sentence breaks are best guess estimates by the blog editor . . .
From John Jackson:
Hello Blog-master,
Sunday morning arrived a little misty and 58 degrees. Side roads were covered with slippery, wet leaves, so the ride to Dunkin' Donuts was slow and steady. That will be an important standard for the day.
When I got to Dunkin' Russ and John K. were enjoying their hot beverage of choice already. John K. informed me that this Dunkin' Donuts was now offering Same Day Service. So I took them up on it, and damned if it wasn't true! I got a muffin and a cappuccino within five minutes!
By the time I got back, Bernie and Rollie had arrived. Later came Steve D., who was greeted appropriately by Russ, Johnny B. and finally Bill.
John K. asked, to no-one in particular, looking at Russ and I, "Who's leading today?" Russ answered in the negative, so, by default, I said I would. I had it in my GPS.
John K. and I briefly discussed the route to the meeting point on Interstate 84 where we were picking up John H. and Bart. Taking Interstate 95 to Route 25 to Newtown to Interstate 84 was the preferred route.
Promptly at 9 a.m. we lined up and off we went. As I was reading my GPS, I noticed the "arrive" time was 11 a.m. So I planned to keep the pace on the moderate side after we picked up our two northern polar bears, which we did at precisely 9:45.
Onto Interstate 84 west, the train of 10 bikes sauntered. Speed limit 65 mph, I set my cruise control at 64.
Weather was gray with some hint of sun breaking through off to the southwest. But up ahead it was just clouds. We rode through a cloud going up one one those mountains. Visibility was next to nil, so I kept the pace down a little.
I didn't want to slow down too much to prevent riders from bunching up unexpectedly. And I stayed in the lane we were in because I sure as heck could not see my sweep John K. in my mirrors. If he was clearing a lane for me, I couldn't tell.
After about a mile of clouds, we broke through. I do NOT like not being able to see ahead!
I cranked the speed back up to a blistering 63 mph and the GPS still says "arrive" at 11:01.
We got stuck behind a creepy crawling Toyota Camry on the Newburg bridge, doing about 45 to 50 mph. I saw this as an opportunity to knock our arrival time back a notch or two, so I stayed behind, later to be ragged-on mercilessly by our Captain when we arrived and unsaddled at 11:10.
John K. is the best sweep that I have ridden with. He just KNOWS when you want to change lanes. I look in my mirror for a lane change and he is already there, waiting for me to turn on my signal. Perhaps this is why he was so fast to comment on why I stayed behind that slow poke on the bridge.
Anyway, we arrived, all 10 of us, early.
Bob Hartpence (Polar Bear Chairman) was out in the parking lot and came over to say hello. We took the group shot, Johnny B. having figured out his new camera's timer mechanism. Then we went to sign-in and have a lunch a litle before 11:30.
The buffet this year was pretty good: chili, biscuits and gravy, mac and cheese, little meatloaf patties in gravy and some sort of chicken thing, all very edible.
During lunch I asked where Steve D. was. Nobody had seen hide nor hair of him. When we finished lunch and went outside, I, being the leader, searched down the line of bikes where we parked and noticed that Steve's custom painted Fat Boy was no longer there. Some metric cruiser of a similar color was parked where Steve's bike used to be. John K. asked where Steve was. Nobody had heard from him. The evidence pointed to him no longer being anywhere near the Cornucopia anymore, so I felt secure in leaving as a group of nine, knowing the tenth had gone on by himself.
The ride back was at a more brisk pace, more like my speed, cruise control set higher and throttled up to pass the occasional slow moving truck.
Back at Port Jervis it had been decided that we would stop for coffee at Starbucks in Danbury, off Exit 2, which we did. John H., having to be home early, rode on. And Bill left before we went to get coffee.
I treated, with the caveat that if you wanted anything special, you would have to pay for it yourself. Of course Johnny B. took this to mean I would not buy him his hot chocolate. But I calmed him down with the explanation that "special" meant lattes, cappuccinos and espresso drinks. Bernie slipped a frappuchino by me anyway!
So after we were all properly juiced up with Starbucks caffeine enriched coffee we continued on our way.
Bart took off up Route 7 and various others slipping out of my slipstream as we wound our way back down Route 34, arriving home at 3:10 on a 70 degree afternoon.
The day was very enjoyable. John K. exaggerates his power to piss off. I think he does an admirable job. But we all look forward to it, the same way we look forward to Russ' crude innuendo.
That's MY story, and I'm sticking to it.
Finally, here is Russ' report . . .
From Russ:
John K. missed me. I don't think I was pissed off all day. I did miss Chris not showing 'till the last second.
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