Rider
10-23-2005, 11:28 AM
A couple of weeks ago, after a somewhat frustrating summer in which I couldn't get away as much as I wanted (or deserved!), I drew up plans to visit some friends in New England for a surprise birthday party. I had a week to wander, take my time, explore and stretch the legs of the ST on its first extended tour ...
I left bright and early on Wednesday, October 5 under sunny and warm skies. Because I'd looked at the forecast for New England and knew I could expect drastically cooler temperatures and possibly lots of rain, I dressed accordingly: Firstgear Kilimanajaro jacket (with removable liner packed away for now), HT Overpants (same) and lots of turtlenecks and other warm clothes stuffed into the liners of my saddlebags.
First things first ... I had to stop for my traditional sausage biscuit/cinammon roll/hot coffee at McDonald's ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751028-M.jpg
I did boring Interstate from central Ohio and up past Cleveland and northeast through a small slice of Pennsylvania by Lake Erie and into New York state. The day was warm and slightly humid and the bike hummed like the finely-tuned machine it is. The ST is a joy on any road but it can drone on the Interstate so effortlessly, in such comfort and with such stability, it makes even a fairly boring ride more enjoyable.
From there, I got off the superslab and grabbed US Route 20 heading east. A lovely, scenic road it is too, peppered with charming little towns with pretty houses, small town America at its best.
As I rolled through one small burg to another, I was overwhelmed by a scent not unlike opening a fresh jar of grape jelly. At first I wondered if a Smuckers truck had offloaded its goods onto the highway ... until I looked around and realized I was surrounded by vineyards. For this is wine country.
And wine is good. :D
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751030-M.jpg
I pulled over and drank it all in ... the scents and sights, that is. Not the wine. Not yet, anyway.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751031-M.jpg
The next day, I continued my journey across US Route 20, east through the Finger Lakes Region of New York. It's an area with which I'm familiar, having travelled to Watkins Glen for the Formula One U.S. Grand Prix many times back in the 1970s. The Glen lies at the southern tip of Lake Seneca ... this was taken at the northern end.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751041-M.jpg
The wind was whipping off the lake. It felt good. The temperature was about 80 degrees, probably one of the last days of the year we'd feel that kind of warmth. I walked out on the jutting pier and peered out over the lake ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751046-M.jpg
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751070-M.jpg
Later, I stopped behind an old Honda CB360 to take in more of the Finger Lakes. It's a gorgeous part of the country, one that has stayed with me for years. The last time I was here was in the fall of 1982, just a month prior to my first wedding. So much has changed since then ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751085-M.jpg
It was time to move on. I meandered via a variety of back roads to Cooperstown, New York to take in the Baseball Hall of Fame. For such a major pantheon to America's Game, it's amazing how difficult it is to get there!
As I approached, I noticed a few leaves beginning to change color, although still far from peak season.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751115-M.jpg
By the time I got into Cooperstown, it was too late to catch the Hall of Fame for the day. I checked into a cheap motel ("We only take cash, sir.") and snapped a pic off the balcony of the surrounding countryside.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751142-M.jpg
The next morning, I rode the short distance to the Hall of Fame, mindful that the forecast was getting worse by the hour. Practically the minute. The Hall didn't open until 9:00 and I ate breakfast at a little place across the street, keeping my eye on the Weather Channel map on the TV above the bar.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751154-M.jpg
All I could see on the map was a sea of dark green and the words crawling across the screen at the bottom: "Flood Watch In Effect" and "Expect 3" to 5" Of Rain" ...
Estimated Time of Arrival: about two to three hours.
:eek:
Quick decision time, then. I could take in the exhibits at the hall - albeit somewhat hurriedly - and come out to pouring rain and ride up to Vermont in a maelstrom. Or I could hop on the ST and boogie, stay ahead of the impending front and take in Cooperstown some other time.
I boogied.
I hate being rushed. And I'm also not fond of riding in heavy rain for hours at time, although I've done it a zillion times over the past 30 years.
It was right behind me, like a New England ghoul on horseback, all the way up to Vermont.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751163-M.jpg
I beat the rain by and hour and a half. The weekend was a complete washout; driving, pouring, cold rain pelted the entire New England area (and is still there in some places, two weeks later, forcing a state of emergency in Massachusetts). I had a great time with my friends, the surprise birthday party was a complete success and I sampled various beers, whiskeys and wines, as is my habit. :cool:
Two days later, I left in a cold drizzle, heading back to Ohio. The ambient air temp gauge, which has read close to 80 degrees virtually the entire way from Ohio to Vermont, had now dipped to the mid-50s and the sun had disappeared ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751298-M.jpg
Tucked in behind the ST's fairing, adjusting the windscreen with the touch of a button, I kept dry and warm the entire trip back. Nary a drop of rain soiled my clothes, aside from the tips of my BMW Gore-Tex boots. The bike ran flawlessly for 1,450 miles; smooth, competent and comfortable while averaging - according to the bike's computer - 43.2 miles per gallon. Once, while passing a string of puttering cars on Route 20, the speedo danced to 110 mph ... before I even bothered to shift into 5th gear.
Over a variety of roads ranging from flat Interstate to wet mountain switchbacks, the ST was unflappable and a thorough joy to ride. It always inspired confidence and safety.
I got home, pulled into the garage, fetched a beer and just looked at it for awhile.
And I smiled.
I left bright and early on Wednesday, October 5 under sunny and warm skies. Because I'd looked at the forecast for New England and knew I could expect drastically cooler temperatures and possibly lots of rain, I dressed accordingly: Firstgear Kilimanajaro jacket (with removable liner packed away for now), HT Overpants (same) and lots of turtlenecks and other warm clothes stuffed into the liners of my saddlebags.
First things first ... I had to stop for my traditional sausage biscuit/cinammon roll/hot coffee at McDonald's ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751028-M.jpg
I did boring Interstate from central Ohio and up past Cleveland and northeast through a small slice of Pennsylvania by Lake Erie and into New York state. The day was warm and slightly humid and the bike hummed like the finely-tuned machine it is. The ST is a joy on any road but it can drone on the Interstate so effortlessly, in such comfort and with such stability, it makes even a fairly boring ride more enjoyable.
From there, I got off the superslab and grabbed US Route 20 heading east. A lovely, scenic road it is too, peppered with charming little towns with pretty houses, small town America at its best.
As I rolled through one small burg to another, I was overwhelmed by a scent not unlike opening a fresh jar of grape jelly. At first I wondered if a Smuckers truck had offloaded its goods onto the highway ... until I looked around and realized I was surrounded by vineyards. For this is wine country.
And wine is good. :D
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751030-M.jpg
I pulled over and drank it all in ... the scents and sights, that is. Not the wine. Not yet, anyway.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751031-M.jpg
The next day, I continued my journey across US Route 20, east through the Finger Lakes Region of New York. It's an area with which I'm familiar, having travelled to Watkins Glen for the Formula One U.S. Grand Prix many times back in the 1970s. The Glen lies at the southern tip of Lake Seneca ... this was taken at the northern end.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751041-M.jpg
The wind was whipping off the lake. It felt good. The temperature was about 80 degrees, probably one of the last days of the year we'd feel that kind of warmth. I walked out on the jutting pier and peered out over the lake ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751046-M.jpg
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751070-M.jpg
Later, I stopped behind an old Honda CB360 to take in more of the Finger Lakes. It's a gorgeous part of the country, one that has stayed with me for years. The last time I was here was in the fall of 1982, just a month prior to my first wedding. So much has changed since then ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751085-M.jpg
It was time to move on. I meandered via a variety of back roads to Cooperstown, New York to take in the Baseball Hall of Fame. For such a major pantheon to America's Game, it's amazing how difficult it is to get there!
As I approached, I noticed a few leaves beginning to change color, although still far from peak season.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751115-M.jpg
By the time I got into Cooperstown, it was too late to catch the Hall of Fame for the day. I checked into a cheap motel ("We only take cash, sir.") and snapped a pic off the balcony of the surrounding countryside.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751142-M.jpg
The next morning, I rode the short distance to the Hall of Fame, mindful that the forecast was getting worse by the hour. Practically the minute. The Hall didn't open until 9:00 and I ate breakfast at a little place across the street, keeping my eye on the Weather Channel map on the TV above the bar.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751154-M.jpg
All I could see on the map was a sea of dark green and the words crawling across the screen at the bottom: "Flood Watch In Effect" and "Expect 3" to 5" Of Rain" ...
Estimated Time of Arrival: about two to three hours.
:eek:
Quick decision time, then. I could take in the exhibits at the hall - albeit somewhat hurriedly - and come out to pouring rain and ride up to Vermont in a maelstrom. Or I could hop on the ST and boogie, stay ahead of the impending front and take in Cooperstown some other time.
I boogied.
I hate being rushed. And I'm also not fond of riding in heavy rain for hours at time, although I've done it a zillion times over the past 30 years.
It was right behind me, like a New England ghoul on horseback, all the way up to Vermont.
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751163-M.jpg
I beat the rain by and hour and a half. The weekend was a complete washout; driving, pouring, cold rain pelted the entire New England area (and is still there in some places, two weeks later, forcing a state of emergency in Massachusetts). I had a great time with my friends, the surprise birthday party was a complete success and I sampled various beers, whiskeys and wines, as is my habit. :cool:
Two days later, I left in a cold drizzle, heading back to Ohio. The ambient air temp gauge, which has read close to 80 degrees virtually the entire way from Ohio to Vermont, had now dipped to the mid-50s and the sun had disappeared ...
http://bmwrider.smugmug.com/photos/39751298-M.jpg
Tucked in behind the ST's fairing, adjusting the windscreen with the touch of a button, I kept dry and warm the entire trip back. Nary a drop of rain soiled my clothes, aside from the tips of my BMW Gore-Tex boots. The bike ran flawlessly for 1,450 miles; smooth, competent and comfortable while averaging - according to the bike's computer - 43.2 miles per gallon. Once, while passing a string of puttering cars on Route 20, the speedo danced to 110 mph ... before I even bothered to shift into 5th gear.
Over a variety of roads ranging from flat Interstate to wet mountain switchbacks, the ST was unflappable and a thorough joy to ride. It always inspired confidence and safety.
I got home, pulled into the garage, fetched a beer and just looked at it for awhile.
And I smiled.