OP
OP
Horsehead
Slow Pokin' the Southeast
Overnight, the temperatures didn’t get down nearly as low as they had the previous night. I suppose not being next to a decent sized river in the bottom of a valley between two mountains probably contributed to that. When I woke up, I couldn’t see my breath as I had been able to the previous morning. This also meant I didn’t feel quite so compelled to staying in the warmth and comfort my sleeping back for as long as possible. Even so, the extreme comfort of the hammock and the added warmth / light dampening effect of the rain tarp meant I didn’t stir until around 8am. Eventually, I managed to get out of bed and get some coffee going. This morning, no gloves or makeshift water bottles were required. Thankfully I had remembered to grab a cup from Sheetz the day before.
I sat quietly by the creek, sipping my coffee, listening to the birds greeting the day, and simply soaked in the solitude of being miles from the nearest sizable town. I had learned the day before at the Green Bank Observatory that because of the presence of the radio telescope, there was a very purposeful dead zone for any and all kind of radio waves, including cell phones. Like it or not, camping in this area means you are 100% disconnected from the outside world. I liked it. My wife, not so much. She hadn’t heard from me since the previous afternoon when I checked in at a fuel stop. She is supportive of the hobby (lifestyle?), but when she doesn’t hear from me for 18 hours, her mind starts to inevitably produce worst case scenarios. I had no desire to cause her any undue mental strain, so around 9am I broke camp and loaded the bike.
It was another 5 miles and change out the same gravel road I had taken in to the camp site the night before. If I had any room on the ST for a fishing rod, I could certainly have stopped for a couple hours to enjoy this beautiful and secluded lake.
Alas, I had no fishing rod or tackle, and I had promised my wife I’d be home for a birthday party later that afternoon. I had a lot of miles to cover before then, so it was time to hit the road in earnest.
Even so, I was committed to stay off anything resembling an Interstate Highway. Back roads were on the menu, and I was happy to belly up to that particular bar.
Almost immediately I was greeted by the rolling hills of rural Virginia. I remember stopping in one particular field and thinking to myself, “I have stepped back in time, to a simpler, more primitive age…” The old farmhouses and Pennsylvania Dutch style barns made me feel like I should be in Amish country of Lancaster County instead of nearing the Virginia / North Carolina border. But wouldn’t you know, my gut feeling was proved true after all as I rounded a curve and saw a tell-tale sign of just how rural my surroundings really were.
After the more technical riding of the last two days, these roads were a wonderful way to head toward home. Zero traffic, perfect weather, beautiful scenery, easy sweepers… The ST just ate up the miles without a hint of protestation, and I was feeling at one with the machine. Until I looked down and noticed my left side bar end weight was almost completely unscrewed. Thankfully the previous owner had assembled a more or less comprehensive tool kit, which I knew was ready and waiting below the saddle. I pulled into a small country gas station just as the Sunday Morning church crowd was letting out and made the necessary adjustments.
I continued heading South and East toward home, thinking all the while of the wonderful riding I had already enjoyed and wondering what route I should take to avoid the major thoroughfares… I made one mis-step and had to site for quite a while waiting for some construction traffic. It was miles long and I cut the bike off to avoid getting cooked by the engine heat. The car in front of me had been doing about 10mph under the speed limit for the last few miles before we were stopped by the road crew flagger (I could tell she was on her phone as she could barely stay between the lines even at that low speed), so I had to attempt to both relax and be ready to start my engine and jump around her when the worker changed the sign from Stop to Slow. I didn’t miss my opportunity. As soon as he indicated the coast was clear, I shot around her and off I went. Wouldn’t you know, for the next few miles she all of the sudden was concerned with actually driving instead of screwing with her smart phone and decided she wanted to ride my butt if at all possible. But a Nissan Armada is no match for a motorcycle, even if it is now 20 years old. I put distance between she and I and I think we both were happier for it.
One final stop lay between me and home: Lunch. But where? Thankfully, I had passed through Floyd, Va a couple of weeks before with a fellow rider and knew there were some good places to eat. Being a Sunday afternoon, most places looked relatively crowded, so I opted for the one that looked the least busy. It proved to be a good decision and I was rewarded with a delicious BBQ sandwich and little wait.
The final leg for home led me through some of my favorite back roads Northwest of Greensboro. I saw many other motorcyclists on the road and we all seemed to be enjoying the amazing weather and wonderful roads. I know I’m preaching to the choir, but there really is something special, almost existential about riding perfectly paved roads, free from distraction, surrounded by forests on either side. A sense of calm in the midst of exhilaration… Relaxation co-mingled with laser-like singularity of focus… The sense that everything is flowing exactly as it ought, regardless of whatever burdens, concerns, or responsibilities are eagerly awaiting your return… To we who accept the risks, we reap the rewards. To attempt to explain it to those who do not, it is a nearly futile endeavor. It seems you either get it or you don’t. I am thankful that, even though I began motorcycling without a license, without any proper training, or any understanding of what I was doing (and almost paid for it dearly with my own stupidity and mistakes), I’ve lasted this long and am able to enjoy this passion with a maturity and clarity.
I arrived at the birthday party just in time to watch the birthday boy open his presents and everyone gather round to get a better look at his bounty.
After the party, before finishing the final 5 miles to home, I was able to give my children and my wife around the church parking lot on the ST. None of them had ever been on a motorcycle before, even though I have owned several over the years. Just a few figure eights around the lamp posts as the sun set was all we had time for. But those few moments, seeing the excitement on their faces, I was high on cloud 9… My mind immediately started crunching numbers and thinking “I bet I could get my oldest a helmet and some riding gear for a few hundred dollars…” Time will tell if they are drawn to the hobby. But until then, I know that motorcycling has done unmeasurable good for my mental well-being. When I’m riding, I don’t feel the concerns of everyday life. I don’t feel the pressure of being a husband, a father, a business owner. All those concerns disappear as I focus on properly entering, navigating, and exiting the next curve. The pressures of life melt away as the countryside passes by at 50mph. The only thing that matters is right there in front of me, locked in that single moment. And really, that is the joy of riding isn’t it?
I sat quietly by the creek, sipping my coffee, listening to the birds greeting the day, and simply soaked in the solitude of being miles from the nearest sizable town. I had learned the day before at the Green Bank Observatory that because of the presence of the radio telescope, there was a very purposeful dead zone for any and all kind of radio waves, including cell phones. Like it or not, camping in this area means you are 100% disconnected from the outside world. I liked it. My wife, not so much. She hadn’t heard from me since the previous afternoon when I checked in at a fuel stop. She is supportive of the hobby (lifestyle?), but when she doesn’t hear from me for 18 hours, her mind starts to inevitably produce worst case scenarios. I had no desire to cause her any undue mental strain, so around 9am I broke camp and loaded the bike.
It was another 5 miles and change out the same gravel road I had taken in to the camp site the night before. If I had any room on the ST for a fishing rod, I could certainly have stopped for a couple hours to enjoy this beautiful and secluded lake.
Alas, I had no fishing rod or tackle, and I had promised my wife I’d be home for a birthday party later that afternoon. I had a lot of miles to cover before then, so it was time to hit the road in earnest.
Even so, I was committed to stay off anything resembling an Interstate Highway. Back roads were on the menu, and I was happy to belly up to that particular bar.
Almost immediately I was greeted by the rolling hills of rural Virginia. I remember stopping in one particular field and thinking to myself, “I have stepped back in time, to a simpler, more primitive age…” The old farmhouses and Pennsylvania Dutch style barns made me feel like I should be in Amish country of Lancaster County instead of nearing the Virginia / North Carolina border. But wouldn’t you know, my gut feeling was proved true after all as I rounded a curve and saw a tell-tale sign of just how rural my surroundings really were.
After the more technical riding of the last two days, these roads were a wonderful way to head toward home. Zero traffic, perfect weather, beautiful scenery, easy sweepers… The ST just ate up the miles without a hint of protestation, and I was feeling at one with the machine. Until I looked down and noticed my left side bar end weight was almost completely unscrewed. Thankfully the previous owner had assembled a more or less comprehensive tool kit, which I knew was ready and waiting below the saddle. I pulled into a small country gas station just as the Sunday Morning church crowd was letting out and made the necessary adjustments.
I continued heading South and East toward home, thinking all the while of the wonderful riding I had already enjoyed and wondering what route I should take to avoid the major thoroughfares… I made one mis-step and had to site for quite a while waiting for some construction traffic. It was miles long and I cut the bike off to avoid getting cooked by the engine heat. The car in front of me had been doing about 10mph under the speed limit for the last few miles before we were stopped by the road crew flagger (I could tell she was on her phone as she could barely stay between the lines even at that low speed), so I had to attempt to both relax and be ready to start my engine and jump around her when the worker changed the sign from Stop to Slow. I didn’t miss my opportunity. As soon as he indicated the coast was clear, I shot around her and off I went. Wouldn’t you know, for the next few miles she all of the sudden was concerned with actually driving instead of screwing with her smart phone and decided she wanted to ride my butt if at all possible. But a Nissan Armada is no match for a motorcycle, even if it is now 20 years old. I put distance between she and I and I think we both were happier for it.
One final stop lay between me and home: Lunch. But where? Thankfully, I had passed through Floyd, Va a couple of weeks before with a fellow rider and knew there were some good places to eat. Being a Sunday afternoon, most places looked relatively crowded, so I opted for the one that looked the least busy. It proved to be a good decision and I was rewarded with a delicious BBQ sandwich and little wait.
The final leg for home led me through some of my favorite back roads Northwest of Greensboro. I saw many other motorcyclists on the road and we all seemed to be enjoying the amazing weather and wonderful roads. I know I’m preaching to the choir, but there really is something special, almost existential about riding perfectly paved roads, free from distraction, surrounded by forests on either side. A sense of calm in the midst of exhilaration… Relaxation co-mingled with laser-like singularity of focus… The sense that everything is flowing exactly as it ought, regardless of whatever burdens, concerns, or responsibilities are eagerly awaiting your return… To we who accept the risks, we reap the rewards. To attempt to explain it to those who do not, it is a nearly futile endeavor. It seems you either get it or you don’t. I am thankful that, even though I began motorcycling without a license, without any proper training, or any understanding of what I was doing (and almost paid for it dearly with my own stupidity and mistakes), I’ve lasted this long and am able to enjoy this passion with a maturity and clarity.
I arrived at the birthday party just in time to watch the birthday boy open his presents and everyone gather round to get a better look at his bounty.
After the party, before finishing the final 5 miles to home, I was able to give my children and my wife around the church parking lot on the ST. None of them had ever been on a motorcycle before, even though I have owned several over the years. Just a few figure eights around the lamp posts as the sun set was all we had time for. But those few moments, seeing the excitement on their faces, I was high on cloud 9… My mind immediately started crunching numbers and thinking “I bet I could get my oldest a helmet and some riding gear for a few hundred dollars…” Time will tell if they are drawn to the hobby. But until then, I know that motorcycling has done unmeasurable good for my mental well-being. When I’m riding, I don’t feel the concerns of everyday life. I don’t feel the pressure of being a husband, a father, a business owner. All those concerns disappear as I focus on properly entering, navigating, and exiting the next curve. The pressures of life melt away as the countryside passes by at 50mph. The only thing that matters is right there in front of me, locked in that single moment. And really, that is the joy of riding isn’t it?
