Langhorne, Pa.

CT Bears in Langhorne, PA, from left: Mac, Grumpy, Captain and Fonz.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Brian's Harley-Davidson, Langhorne, PA, April 2, 2017.

By: Captain

Good weather makes for a great ride. Mine started at 7:00AM when The Princess called to let me know that she would join us at the bus stop for the trip south. At 8:00AM I arrived at the DD for coffee, Mac arrived soon after. At 8:30AM Pogy called to let me know he would join us at the Darian Service area. Johnny B. (Grumpy) showed up rested from his Daytona, FL trip. We left the DD on time heading down I-95 to PA with Grumpy in the lead and MAC bringing up the rear. As we passed the Fairfield Service area the Fonz joined as our Sweep, still south bound we passed the Darian Service area, no Pogy! We forged ahead toward the next pickup in NY. Alas no Princess at the stop. We stopped and called to check on Pogy and here comes the Princess at slow speed. She hit a pothole and deflated her front tire. We were able to get air in the tire and she went to the near by HD dealer for repair. The rest of us continued on to the destination arriving at 11:45AM. 

We checked in and went upstairs for a bite. Brian's HOG chapter had a tasty spread, hotdogs, meat balls, salad and desert with coffee and soft drinks. They accepted donations for MD, great job everyone. After eating Fonz did some shopping then we did our group photo under the sign in the parking lot. The ride home was very pleasant the temp. high of 63 and sunny. We stopped at the top on the Fonz dime. Headed home arriving at 4:15PM.

Chatterboxing

CT Bears in Augusta, from left, Mac, Token2, Pogy, Fonz and Captain.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Augusta, NJ, March 26, 2017.

By: Token2

Chatterboxing

The numbers bulked up from the prior week with five CT bears on the road. 

The ride began and finished wet, dank and generally miserable. The sorry state of the day was, as always, significantly improved by the bonhomie of the diverse group of souls (and soulless) blokes that make up the pool of CT Bears!

Pogy must have made an absolute flyer out of the Darien rest stop as he found himself in the unusual positon of being the lead bike. Everyone refused to pass him and so it was that he led the ride. Quite competently it has to be said. Meanwhile Fonz who was picked up from a ramp in Fairfield and who covets the sweep role must have been head faked by Mac who perhaps switched off his riding lights to avoid Fonz noticing he was there. Anyway,  by the time T2 (your reporter for the ride) was collected on I287 in White Plains a sense of calm had taken hold and he slipped into the cradle. Fiddling with his heating controls while getting in line (naughty lad) resulted in his speed dropping a tad inviting Mac to take a closer (and first) look at the apparition of the green machine (What the hell is that? Mac asked later.). Mac handled the rear with aplomb despite  an occasional  long awaited call from the front and impatient early departures from the middle (yes, guilty as charged your honor).

The ride out and back followed the TZB, I287, rte 23 and 15. After hitting Rt 23 a brief stop was requested by T2 to attend to his wardrobe malfunction. With toasty toes and fingers restored the group still managed to dismount at the Chatterbox right on time. Getting a table was easy; for a second week in a row attendance seemed light. Perhaps the forecast of freezing drizzle in the highlands of Sussex county had the more circumspect riders staying home. 

Lunch was typical Chatterbox fare and tasty it was too. Several matters of interest to note, Pogy and Capt.  cozied up in an effort to help elected officials better understand what unity looks like. The reader can be the judge of how helpful that might actually be. T2 got pummeled for bringing up healthcare. Mac and Fonz remained stoic through it all continuing to dip fries in ketchup, instilling much needed tranquility at the lunch table.

The more important matters to document are that Fonz collected his 30 point rocker and with a change in work patterns he is hoping to pick up enough points in the tail of the season to go Gold. Gold was the milestone that Mac achieved on this ride after a week or two attending to other commitments.  

A detour to Montvale for refreshments was agreed as was a prior stop for gas. Pogy and Capt’s unity over lunch started to fray early when the allegedly agreed upon gas stop was by pulled in favor of a different plan. T2 stepped up to accept the blame even though he was far away from the action and tried to heal the wounds by supplying gaily colored pink frosted donuts *with sprinkles* in addition to the beverages. Peace and friendship was restored. Life needs more donut moments.

Fonz missed out on the donut treat, favoring a quick return to CT.

We shall gather again to keep the CT Bear fires burning next week.

Where da CT Bears?

CT Bears in Long Valley, in the back Token2 and Captain and down front Pogy.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Long Valley, NJ., March 19, 2017.

By: Token2

Hi Chris:

Missing the support of a fellow realist, slightly left of center rider (aka fake news communist biker hooligan) these past couple of weeks…need reinforcements to do battle with the Trumpanistas.  So come back when you can!

Where da CT Bears?

A second week of a low turnout for the CT Bears with a complement of three. Where did the rest go?

The forecast for the day had oscillated from half decent to dire predictions of another good wallop of snow. In the end a day that started dull and chilly quickly evolved to be bright, sunny and cloudless with temperatures in the mid 40’s. Sooooooooweeet! The Capt, the resurgent Pogy and T2 (guest reporter) made the trip to Long Valley, NJ. T2 led the way on his new Kermit colored Kawasaki while Capt and Pogy followed at a suitable multi-bike distance to avoid any hint of association with the gaily colored leader. The ride was uneventful, if slightly lonely at the front.

It seemed that not only had the CT Bears hunkered down in fear of the worst but so too had the population at large. Traffic was uniformly light throughout the day and attendance seemed on the low side. The normal challenge to get seated at the customarily popular destination was a breeze. Of course it was made easier by arriving at 11am, but even when we departed the normal  line was absent. The communications director who set the crushingly early departure time was notably absent, allegedly giving up his quest for perfect attendance due to work commitments. He was later spotted on his doorstep at 3.30pm still in his jim-jams. This confirmed suspicions that he wanted a lie-in, still recovering from the change to daylight savings earlier in the month.

Perhaps the low number of Bears staying to eat had to do with a new and blatant segregationist policy to corral the Bears in a small part of the restaurant with a dedicated Bear like fried food menu (cheaper admittedly than the buffet). The Capt. decided freedom was needed to caucus wherever we choose and despite a failed negotiation with the maître d’ grabbed a suitable table upstairs, ably waited on by Bonnie, that gave unfettered access to the customarily lavish (if slightly expensive) buffet.

Pogy’s first plate was piled high with food and was truly a joy to see. After putting the hurt on by lifting 5 gallon drums of honey the plate gave a lie to the suggestion that he is still unable to carry heavy things. As with any good work out it is important to go through repetitions, which Pogy (and we) did. Pogy even went for a couple of the foo-foo desserts. Anyway, stuffed to the gills we better appreciated why the owner of the pub was trying to direct us to the Bear menu. Sorry, dude we are people too and our money is green just like the other customers. I think Bonnie would like us to return as we tipped her well.

T2 who has developed a penchant for collecting brightly colored things showed off another T-shirt, a gift from a friend (now former friend) celebrating his two-wheel purchase. 

A stop at the top finished off the day. Refreshments provided by Pogy. As the picture from the parking lots show the initial shock and embarrassment effected by T2’s new ride was overcome, the Wings cozied up to froggie in the end.

Until next time.

T2

Truly Polar

CT Bears in a frosty Waretown, from left: Captain, CT Blogger and Anonymous Ed.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Waretown, NJ, March 12, 2017

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

It was a truly polar ride this Sunday. Cold in the teens to start. Not much warmer on the way home.

We rode to Lighthouse Tavern in Waretown, NJ.

I might have been a bit more mindful if I knew this was my last ride of the season. But, life had other plans and starting my new business took over my time for riding this spring.

If you get a chance, check out my website for the new business: www.DigitalPizzaCT.com and like my business page on Facebook: @DigitalPizzaCT.

Meanwhile, the turnout was smallish. Anonymous Ed earned his gold rocker and a good time was had by all.

Coldest This Season

CT Bears at Twin Lights, from left: Token2, Grumpy, CT Blogger, Captain, Pogy.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Highlands, NJ, Sunday, March 5, 2017.

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

Well just two blogs ago, I quoted my favorite author Mark Twain about the changeability of New England weather. That Sunday's weather was springtime balmy. This Sunday's ride was the coldest of the season so far. It was 12 when I woke up Sunday morning, warmed to 18 by departure time. On the way home the temperature climbed to a nearly tolerable 30.

Hey, I know it's a winter riding club. So I am not complaining about the cold. It is hard to explain the Polar Bear Club. For me, the primary reason is that I cannot contemplate giving up my motorcycle for nearly half the year just because it is cold outside. The stress relief, camaraderie, joy of riding are all there in any weather and under as many layers of clothing as it takes.

Still, I hate being cold. And unlike the Grand Tour's Chairman, I chill easily. Bob Hartpence joked Sunday how he was relieved to see his thermometer this morning. Me, I went into polar preparation.

First step in my most frigid preperation is to attempt to warm my carbureted, 20-year-old motorcycle in my unheated garage. I have one of those electric radiators. Immediately upon waking I jump out of bed, throw on my pants and winter coat and run out to the garage to turn on the heater. The unheated garage is also un-insulated. So I snug the heater up close to the bike's engine and then tent both with a blanket. The old girl's never not started. She's a bit cranky at these very cold temperatures. But on full choke, and with a bit of patience, she'll fire.

Next I prepare myself to achieve some level of comfort. The problem is that to achieve warmth comfort I have to give up some level of clothing comfort. Even with the electrics, all the extra layers get tight and uncomfortable. By the end of the ride I can't wait to get out of my "space suit."

For me, hands are the hardest to keep warm. For really cold days like this one, I switch from my electric gloves to this really great set of NorthFace mountaineering mittens. They're windproof, down filled and I slip one of those air-activated hand warmers inside with my fingers. Works like a charm.

Not all our riders are as wimpy about the temperature as I am. Captain never uses electrics. He layers up and puts hand warmers in his gloves. Grumpy rarely wears a full-face helmet. This ride he showed up in a half helmet and a wrap to protect his face.

Bitter cold whittled our numbers to the core bears. And however we handled it, we all survived the cold just fine.

Despite the cold there was a good turnout at Bahr's Landing, an excellent seafood restaurant right on the water in the shadow of the twin lighthouses. Pogy and I were sorry to no longer see turtle soup on the menu. It was excellent and a treat he and I looked forward to each year.

Token2 showed up on a very, very green new replacement for his grenaded Guzzi.

Mea Pie

CT Bears at Hooters, back row, from left: CT Blogger, Captain, John J.,. Scott, Mac; front row from left: Grumpy, Pogy, Token2.

Motorcycle Polar Bear Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Wayne, NJ, February 26, 2017

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

Dear readers, at least once a season my fellow Connecticut Polar Bears suggest, sometimes strongly, the slings and arrows of this blog be also directed at its author. So every now and again I write a mea culpa and eat some humble pie. This week seems appropriate.

Fonz will be pleased to know his fellow bears rallied to his defense in his absence. Fonz was on vacation with his wife Dolly, riding rented Harleys from Las Vegas to California.

This Sunday I am accused of alternate facts and fake news. Token2 made an amazing confession at lunch. Pogy's back. Our favorite 100-year-old Polar Bear made an appearance. And we were at Hooters. Oh, and yes, I made a mess of those pre-Hooters twists and turns with which I challenged Fonz in last week's missive.

Wayne, N.J. is one of the Connecticut Bears' rare sub-one-hundred-mile rides. For most of us, Mac always being the mileage exception, our round trip distance won't break 200. We earn just three points. On the other hand, the variety of a short ride now and again is not all bad.

A leisurely 10 a.m. start time is rare for us. I even showed up to the departure point early . . . and that may have been a mistake. Usually I arrive just as my fellow riders are lining up read to go. But the later departure made me antsy. So I rode over with a whole 10 minutes to spare.

Much of that 10 minutes was spent poking holes in last week's blog. It was Token2 who actually blocked traffic when Anonymous Ed missed the turn at the fork. Grumpy was first to abdicate, not Fonz. Numerous other errors and omissions were pointed out to me by my critics. Then they accused me of fake news and alternate facts.

My reply is simple. I never made any such promises of facts and accuracy in the first place. I am not about to let the facts get in the way of a good narrative. And I'm pretty sure Fonz can take the criticism, however unfair.

When I hosted the blog on my website I offered this permanently placed disclaimer:

Please keep in mind I sometimes exaggerate here in an attempt at humor. I make no promises for the veracity of any statements. No warranty is expressed or implied. Your mileage may vary. Void where prohibited. Past blog performance does not guarantee future blog results.

Read this blog with a very big grain of salt. (And discount anything Russ Curtis tells you by at least 30 percent!)

I do understand the righteous indignation of my fellow riders. Each of them has been victimized by me in this blog at one time or another, rarely even rightly so. This week, with me arriving early, they turned on me. The upshot was challenging me to lead the ride. Of course I said yes. Of course I regretted it.

Perhaps frustrated by the short mileage, Token2 rode all the way north to Stratford from his Ridgefield hinterlands only to ride south again as we headed for Jersey. Typically we pick him up somewhere near the intersection of I-287 and the Hutchinson Parkway.

So we were seven in number departing the Stratford Dunkin' Donuts.

Prescient of the danger, I studied the route and map this morning whilst breakfasting. As leader I suggested we take the parkways to the George Washington Bridge then proceed straight out Route 80. This was immediately met with a disgusted look by Grumpy, verbal protestations and his favorite hand gesture. Feeling the heat over the blog already, I gladly switched my route to Tappan Zee.

We picked up Pogy and Scott at the Darien rest stop and were now nine.

Pogy's back riding with us after missing most of the season for personal reasons. Pogy actually taught me to ride. Then we saw a lot of each other at the now defunct Bridgeport Harley-Davidson dealership. Pogy eventually talked me into becoming an instructor; now he and I teach motorcycle riding together for the Connecticut Rider Education Program. It took me years, literally, to talk him into giving the Polar Bear rides a chance. Now he's addicted.

Scott called me, as he always does, Sunday morning of the ride to tell me to look for him at the rest stop. Temperatures were about 20 degrees less than last week when Scott famously rode in a tee-shirt, fleece vest and windbreaker. This week, Scott told me he was going to break out his electric jacket. At Hooters I learned he dusted off his gear and suited up but then, when he started the bike and plugged in his jacket, the heat controller started smoking. Yikes! He toughed it out . . . without electrical warmth. Fortunately the ride home was a bit warmer still.

I would not have made it. On one ride some years ago Token2's electric gear thermostat quit working. Fortunately we were at Montgomeryville Cycle Center and he was able to buy another. Since that day, I keep a second thermostat packed on my bike . . . just in case.

Nine is an awkward number of bikes in line. Not quite enough machines to break into two independent groups, it is a heck of a long line to do things like change lanes and exit interstate highways.

John J. was sweep. I found out at lunch his nickname is "Scoop." Some of us choose our own nicknames, others have nicknames thrust upon them. He shall be Scoop from now on, at least in this humble blog.

Scoop did a great job blocking lanes. Anonymous Ed (who had his nickname thrust upon him) offered his services as a sort of middle sweep, holding a lane open so those trailing could come up and squeeze in. We had cars in our line here and there and one real jerk who rode up on the left at the approach to the Tappan Zee Bridge. Despite more than a mile of warnings punctuated by big flashing arrows that the left lane is disappearing, he still came shooting up on our left at the last minute.

I cut my guys short trying to get over for the exit from I-287 to Route 80. There was a bit of a scramble, but we exited with just one car in our midst. Route 80 was worse, always is. But that wasn't the worst of it. Next came that loopy Route 23 exit with which I challenged Fonz. Only this time, I was the one being challenged.

My decision making and navigation skills came up short.

Signs appeared too fast. GPS was trying to keep up. I slowed the line of bikes. Still, at the last minute, I chose wrong, putting us onto a "service road" rather than Route 23. Captain was holding back, but to his credit he stuck with me this time. Fortunately my Garmin figured it out pretty fast. We went only a short ways, looped up and over and back around and soon were on Route 23 headed south to our final destination. Curses! Foiled again!

Grumpy was thrilled. My unexpected detour tipped him over the 100 mile mark, just. He claimed his two mileage points while most of us got only one.

At lunch Pogy made a presentation to Token2. If you're a blog follower you will recall Token2 had a bit of trouble with his Moto Guzzi a couple of rides back. The upshot was he had to ride in the passenger seat of Grumpy's bike to get home. The next day Grumpy went back to the destination with his pickup truck to retrieve Token2's bike. This is the second time Grumpy has rescued Token2. Grumpy's heart is bigger than his nickname would have you believe.

I will let the photo do the talking. Token2 didn't just hold up his shirt for a photo, he put it on and promised to wear it with pride.

(For any blog reader unaware of biker lore, the passenger seat on a motorcycle is generally occupied by the rider's girlfriend, wife, female significant other. Some bikers use a derogatory name for females to describe that seat. My apologies to anyone offended. Sorry, Mom. It's not what I call it.)

Lunch at Hooters is always, well, a hoot. Token2 got a table for us and we expanded it still. He also secured the Hooters girl with the biggest, uh, enthusiasm in the place. Cierra did a great job. Scott asked what was good on the menu. Token2 replied, "Everything's fried, so that's a good start." Even so, he and Captain had salads. More in the spirit, Grumpy ordered fried pickles for the table to share.

Service was a bit slow. However Polar Bear Chairman Bob told us that would maybe change for next year. For all the years the Polar Bear Grand Tour has been coming to the Wayne, N.J. Hooters, this was the first year the store owner came to see what we were about. Previous years only the manager attended.

Once he understood the Polar Bear challenge, and perhaps the money to be made, he was receptive to Bob's suggestion they present a special, and limited, Polar Bear menu. We're easy. Limiting choices speeds the kitchen and I would guess makes their job a lot easier too. Many of our destinations now offer a special menu, which I've lauded in earlier blog posts. We'll see what Hooters decides next year.

We were pleased to see Leo Chlebinkow walk into Hooters. He was using a walker, but lucid and bright and the assembled bears treated him like a rock star, taking pictures with him, shaking his hand, talking to him. Leo looked like he was enjoying every minute. February 23 was Leo's 101st birthday. I shared a biography of Leo last year.  CLICK HERE to read, or reread his 100-year story, which involved motorcycles nearly from the beginning. Until just a few years ago, Leo was riding on a trike to our meets. Before that he was on two wheels well into his nineties. Today a friend brought him in a car.

Yes, yes he is.

Anonymous Ed remains . . . anonymous.

Guest Post from Scoop

Approaching home our group split in half on I-287. One set exited to the Merritt Parkway for the ride home through our home state. I led the second group up I-95. Our interstate ride was a bit congested, but apparently not nearly so exciting as the Merritt Parkway group's ride. Here is Scoop's report:

By John J., a.k.a. Scoop

I don’t know how the remainder of your ride went on Sunday from 287 to 95, but our ride back on the Hutch and Merritt Parkways was more a battle than a ride, at least as my view from the back.

 Let me start by saying “No one was injured during this skirmish”. That’s more like it, it was a “Skirmish” of sorts. Mac (Speedy) led, with Grumpy in the middle, I keeping Sweep position.

As we entered the Hutch we had to battle for position to get heading towards the Merritt, as usual, traffic was dense, so we found a spot in the left lane and wound up behind a Crossover doing 60 mph just because it could. Mac held lead just behind his rear bumper, until it pulled over to the right lane just before the rest area on the CT/NY line. As the Crossover pulled over, it decided to increase speed (as those kind of drivers so often do) but Mac drove us by at a goodly clip.

Traffic on the Merritt can be thick and clumpy on Sunday afternoons (as you well know) and Mac was soon on the back bumper of another slowpoke who was afraid of corners it seemed, as it would slow down to 55 mph at every curve on that beautifully curvy section we all know and love. This slowpoke finally pulled to the right lane and we got by it only to be plagued by the very same vehicle all the way to when I pulled off onto the Milford Connector! This a**hole was constantly trying to pass us on the right all the way home! We were doing as I said before a goodly clip in a lot of spots, but were hampered by the speed of the vehicle in front of Sir Speedy most of the time, and in those areas, the Crossover wanted to be in front of our little motorcycle train at any cost.

At one point the Crossover driver actually cut in between Mac and Grumpy, creating a space where there was none. This created an opportunity for Grumpy to have a rather lengthy conversation with the Crossover driver while riding alongside it! I think if Grumpy had had a grenade, or something of that nature, the Crossover would have crossed over into the other dimension of non-existence. I felt like I was watching a Chess match gone horribly wrong. Mac constantly protecting our position from an enemy charging up from our blind spot trying to steal our hard fought territory, adrenaline running high, gasoline fumes permeating the air as throttles open and close! Man! I though the ride down watching the end of a 9 bike train was exciting! That was nothing compared to this!

I hope your ride was less eventful. Anyway, we all (I assume) made it home in one piece, and I had a wonderful single malt Glenfiddich when I got home. So much for a leisure ride home!