Friends of 211

17/05/2019

It was a picture just like this one, that inspired the ride. It turned out to be a calling like no other.

31/03/2019

Hi everyone! Anyone who's recently liked this page, we've moved to facebook.com/brmtcva. Fo211 is no longer going to be updated, since fb wouldn't let us change the name. Please surf on over and give us a "like" for all the latest rides, as well as some of the older ones. Cheers!😃👍🏍

One of the greatest playgrounds a kid with a bike ever dreamed of.

14/02/2019

As some of you may know, Rose and I are going to be contributors for the new Virginia Rider Magazine. We feel like this is a good time to take the first step towards establishing our very own motorcycle touring company. And since fb won't allow us to change Fo211's name, we are starting a new page here, https://www.facebook.com/BRMTCVA.

So as not to flood anyone's timeline, we will be slowly sharing all of the Fo211 posts to the BRMTCVA page. There are many great rides to read about , especially while it's still February, and they will all be available shorty on the new page. Thanks to everyone for all of the support over the years, and we hope to have you on board for our new adventures!!
Cheers!
Marc and Rose

One of the greatest playgrounds a kid with a bike ever dreamed of.

31/01/2019

I am very pleased to announce, after much hard work, that my first book, "When Magic Fills the Air" is now available on paperback!! Thanks to everyone for helping make this one incredible journey!!
https://www.amazon.com/When-Magic-Fills-Air-Extraordinary/dp/1793061688/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1546527421&sr=1-1

Do you ever wonder what that landmark you’ve known about since childhood, but never seen, reveals in person? Have you ever lived outside of your formerly conceived comfort zone and not wanted to return? When the kickstand is up, is where the magic begins: where the dream becomes experience. And a....

26/01/2019

Here's a comprehensive follow up to the LiveWire post last week, which appears to put the industry in a clearer perspective. Enjoy!

https://www.outsideonline.com/2385526/why-harleys-new-electric-motorcycle-costs-30000

The LiveWire is a giant leap for Harley, if only a small step for the motorcycle industry as a whole

16/01/2019

I can see some interest in this technology from the military, but isn't this something, we as riders, avoid by riding in the first place???

09/01/2019

Looking forward to the next great adventure.

07/01/2019

Is there something at work here or is this completely irrelevant? I can't think of anyone I know that would shell out $30K for this.

A first look at the new 2020 Harley-Davidson LiveWire.

04/01/2019

I'm excited to share the debut of my new book, When Magic Fills the Air, on Amazon Kindle!! The paperback is also in the works. Thanks in advance for all the support and please feel free to leave a review😃😃
https://www.amazon.com/When-Magic-Fills-Air-Extraordinary-ebook/dp/B07M6LL32Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1546527421&sr=1-1&keywords=when+magic+fills+the+air

Do you ever wonder what that landmark you’ve known about since childhood, but never seen, reveals in person? Have you ever lived outside of your formerly conceived comfort zone and not wanted to return? When the kickstand is up, is where the magic begins: where the dream becomes experience...

01/01/2019

Thanks again for all the likes and shares!! We're looking forward to getting this party started!!

2019 is going to be an incredible year for the motorcyclists of Virginia! Virginia Rider Magazine will be rolling out for you in March 2019! Stay with us as we have some exciting news coming your way! Happy New Year!

21/12/2018

Meanwhile in Britain...

Triumph gave a quick glimpse of the new Rocket III at its annual dealer conference.

19/12/2018

Rose and I are looking forward to contributing to our editor and friend's new Virginia Rider Magazine!! Please feel free to like and share and get ready for some Great Places to Ride!!!

Virginia Rider mag/site is a free news & info source for riders who enjoy life on 2, 3 & 4 wheels!

14/12/2018

If you ride in the winter and don't already have one of these, or something similar, it can be the difference between enjoying the ride, and not.

It will make any jacket warmer, by sealing out the air from the collar. And if you have a helmet with a chin curtain, it may just eliminate the need for head gear. Cheers and stay warm!!

https://www.amazon.com/Fleece-Winter-Heavyweight-Double-Warmer/dp/B000WNREYA

Black Thick Micro Fleece Long Warm Winter Heavyweight Double Layer Neck Warmer Gaiter - For those days when you need extra protection, don't leave home without Micro Fleece Neck Warmer. Made from 100% polyester, this soft yet thick black warmer is a must have for extreme conditions, protecting ag...

08/12/2018

Warmest socks I've ever worn. Another great gift idea!
https://www.carhartt.com/products/carhartt-accessories-socks/Extremes-Cold-Weather-Boot-Sock-A66

Men's extra-thick socks made for extreme cold.

01/12/2018

Cooter's Place

There are times when ideas appear in my head far too easily, as was the case when contemplating where to go on the next ride. I had barely sat down to look at the map when out of the blue, it came to me. Like Emeril Lagasse serving a plate and yelling, “BAM!!!”, the idea being served was Cooter’s Place. I mean, how else does one follow up a story about a k**b ride??

This month’s story also features a new sponsor: Volt Heat, who make heated apparel, and provided a heated liner for us to check out. Our buds and neighbors, Steve and Trenda, were also down with letting us pilot and fit their awesome Gold Wing for another ride.

I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to remove a seat or wiring harness to install a battery cable for a tender or heated liner. On the orange wing of all goldness, it was just a side cover and flap, and “voila!”, the battery terminals were right there. No time for cramping or rigamortis to set in, cables installed, we were soon winging it up a cold Shenandoah Mountain in complete comfort.

The connectors are standard, so I was able to plug in my gloves. The gear comes with a dual controller and I could dial in a separate setting for my liner and one for my hands. There was also heat in the large collar. When paired with a helmet with a chin curtain, it pretty much eliminates the need for a neck sock or head gear, especially on a bike with a windshield or fairing. There’s even a wireless controller that can be velcroed to the bike for easy access. The liner comes with all cables and controllers and is under $200. Visit voltheat.com for more info and stay warm.

We stopped at Natural Chimneys Park for a break. I confidently pulled straight in to our parking spot instead of backing in. Rose was somewhat mortified until I told her we had reverse. She’s had her fill of pushing two wheeled sleighs like in “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

We spotted a group of kindergarteners that explained the school buses in the lot. They were all surrounding a rainbow colored parachute waiting to hoist it when their teacher yelled “Go!” I was instantly transported 48 years back to my first grade gym class. Not along the timeline, but straight through the wormhole to the blacktop behind Hunt Valley Elementary School in 1970, where my classmates and I were running under Mr. Matta’s Vietnam era camouflage parachute before it would fall on us. I probably hadn’t thought about that in 20 years: all from a bike. We jokingly asked one of the aids if we could play too, when deep down, we really wanted to. Oh yeah, and there were these cool and interesting rock formations resembling chimneys, but they’re always there.

Just before New Market, we made a left toward the airport and followed the North Fork of the Shenandoah River for a while. I remembered the beer drinking hole that was also used for swimming on a company golf trip many years ago. I was trying to remember the back way to Meems Bottom Covered Bridge and yinned when I should have yanged. We ended up on Rt. 11, which we would be covering twice, so I noted a landmark that would signal where to turn on the next leg.

We rode through the bridge both ways before we stopped. There’s about a 30” wide set of potato chipped planks that also sub as a rider refresher test. The GL had no issues. The cornfield with New Market Gap in the background, where many a picture has been taken, was freshly harvested. I thought of my buds Jake and JP running out of the tall stalks here several years ago yelling, “BEES!!! BEES!!! BEES!!!” There’s a video on the fb link below for a chuckle:)

Once past the landmark I meant to turn at, I had some more refresher testing circling around in a parking lot to head back the other way. There was a low water bridge with traffic barrels nearby, used for closing the crossing when Michael passed through. I forgot the name of the road, but Smith’s Creek was playing along this day leaving behind fresh evidence of when it wasn’t.

Once on 211, the six pack of 1832 CCs of perfectly placed horizontally opposed power provided an impressive pull up the pass. There were, however, no signs of pecks of pickled peppers:) The surge in any gear, at any RPM, on this touring machine was notable, if not addicting. And the lean in the turns was like a banked roller coaster on rails. I can see why the GL is so popular among riding enthusiasts.

Anyone with a TV on in the seventies was likely glued to it on Saturday nights. And if you were, you gotta see this place! It’s as pure a time capsule as you’ll find. Not only were there authentic replicas of many of the iconic cars including the General Lee, the location also featured a free museum, gift shop and a cafe.

Rose and I enjoyed a BBQ sandwich outside where some tables and chairs were set up after checking out all the cool stuff. I was very impressed with the attention to detail in the museum: from the dial phone and radio displayed on a dispatch desk, to the rusted out nuts and bolts on a mocked up workbench. It was a cool experience to this fan of the show back in the day. And you won’t walk funny from the cash register to the parking lot if you buy a t shirt.

Up until this point, we hadn’t encountered a single traffic light. However, I thought it wouldn’t be that bad cutting through Shenandoah to McGaheysville and over to Bridgewater to check out Wildwood Park before heading home. It was. If there is such a thing as a wrong turn, I made it, and got a tour of Harrisonburg’s industrial section trying to avoid it. All of this came after following a roving, side-by-side, road block/escort on Rt. 33 by a Prius and another hybrid vying for battery life. Further study will ensure alternate routes in the future. The park, with its picturesque swing bridge and dam, was the perfect stop and de-stresser before resuming the rest of our ride home.

I think I’d be preaching to most of the choir if I said riding has made dreams come true. Rose and I are fortunate to live in an area where we can ride most of the year, with heated gear in the winter, if we don’t mind some chunky roads now and then. I’ve seen lots of posts and read the comments, and all I would say to those on the fence or completely on the other side is, “You’re missing out.” Gone will be the days of freezing 150 miles from home on a popsicle ride, or parking the bike, just because it’s too cold to ride. If you’re like me, you’ll wonder how you ever got along without it!

Cheers and thanks for reading!

A special shout out again goes to Volt Heat, and Steve and Trenda Varner for helping make this ride possible. The support is greatly appreciated! We'd also like to give special thanks to Mike Ryan, publisher of Thunder Roads Mid Atlantic Magazine for running our stories for the past three and a half years. Due to health reasons, November was the last printed issue. We wish you all the best Mike!!

01/11/2018

K**b Ride

It’s been a very unusual summer and early fall. For someone still in between bikes, looking back, all the rain that we’ve had, will be a very thin silver lining, for a road captain’s equivalent of spending an entire season in detox. It could have been far worse if the weather had been San Diego-like, instead of Seattle.

So, it was with great anticipation, after several tries, to ride on a dry day. Having missed last month’s deadline, I was also looking forward to writing again. And adding to the excitement, was our good friends and neighbors hooking us up with their 2007 Gold Wing!

Henry and Joyce arrived just before I got back with the bike for breakfast. We were going to eat at White’s Wayside again, but it was Tuesday and they were closed. I didn’t mind. I don’t think Rose did either. She loves to cook. I often tell her she has OCD: Obsessive Cooking Disorder. I have OED.

Bellies full and kickstands up, we departed. Everything up until now, from the taste of the meal, the donning of the gear, the sacred closet and the sacred leather ponytail “thingie”, to the squeeze of Rose’s leg right out of the shoot, were all enhanced from all the senses eagerly ripe for their experience. During most of this sequence, I was hearing Aerosmith’s “Back in the Saddle” in my head until I started the bike. Fitting to the occasion, Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do” was on. The planets seemed aligned once again.

I had ridden Steve’s bike a few months ago ferrying it back from a service at Precision Powersports in Staunton, so I was kind of familiar with it. I didn’t notice any significant difference with my ever-stoic Pillion on board as we took to the back roads for Sugar Grove and the first of our k**bs:) I immediately noticed how planted to the rough road we were from the firm suspension and rigid frame. It was definitely a sportier setup than what I’ve been used to.

Although it wasn’t raining, it was cloudy. And our clear views were soon replaced by thick fog as we ascended our paved golf cart path to the summit. By the time we reached the parking lot at Reddish K**b at 4397’ MSL, the visibility was less than 100 feet. Not only were we all eager to take a break, but our cooling fans were due as well. Anything air cooled would likely have been barking rather loudly at this point.

We were expecting the place all to ourselves on this weekday. However, there was a van already in the parking lot when we arrived. Soon, a minivan with four guys and their mountain bikes joined our poor visibility party; and a moment later, a solo adventure rider arrived on his BMW. One of the things I wanted to find out on this ride was whether or not our other k**b could be seen from where we were. So, I had plotted the heading earlier on Google Maps (315 degrees), downloaded a compass app on the phone, and taken binoculars along for a little experiment. We could barely see the guardrails. Still, we were having fun, joking and laughing. I mean, it’s not like we came all the way here to mountain bike for the day, and forgot to leave the beer in the base car at the bottom of the mountain. That would suck:)

Besides, there was much more riding to do. Heading to Franklin for plumbing via Moyers Gap, we took a little short cut on Thorn Creek Road. It was on this stretch of paved perfection next to its namesake, that Rose and I experienced something we’d never heard while riding: the water. Paired with the tall windshield and the relatively quiet exhaust we could hear the ripples and cascades as the creek flowed over its rock formations. The aftermarket horn was a nice contrast; providing numerous squirrels a two-toned blast of “GTF out of the way!!”

Fluids transferred, we headed west on Rt. 33. This is a great road, especially in this part, and one the Gold Wing is well suited for. The pavement is smooth and mostly clear. And once I figured out where the bike wanted to rest in the apex, the Honda carved out some impressive lines for the next few miles. The linked brakes were also impressive; with hardly any fork dip trail braking into the corners. Paired with new floating rotors, it was a confidence inspiring experience for our 1200 pounds of bike, crew and gear.

Heading down Long Mountain we stopped at the Germany Valley Overlook. This is one of my favorites so I put the tripod to work. Looking down the valley with mountains on both sides reveals immense depth. It’s stunning in pictures and even more so, to take a minute and soak it all in while there. There’s also a marker sign for a little history, and graffiti on the guardrail for amusement.

We arrived at The Gateway Restaurant just in time. There was only one other couple there, and after we sat down, it was as if we ushered in a small tour bus. The food is all home cooked, very tasty and fairly priced. What sucked even more, was they had pies deviously displayed in open sight, and one of them was pecan. Our waitress also admitted they had vanilla ice cream which I weakly surrendered to as well. Another reason I like stopping there is the rocking chairs on the porch.

As we headed up to our second k**b, I felt like I was on a stretch of Deal’s Gap. It was sufficiently technical and took me out of my food coma instantly. Soon, however, we would be on another paved golf cart path, fans fully engaged, slowly climbing this time, to West Virginia’s highest point at 4862’ MSL: Spruce K**b.

Team GL and Team FLH stopped at another overlook before we got there. The clouds were still above us, so I got out the binoculars and fired up the compass app to continue my experiment. At 135 degrees, two ridges over, was a mountain ridge in the distance. Was it Reddish K**b? It was hard to tell even with the binoculars, but later that evening, it seemed likely with the help of the topography setting in Google Maps. My thesis will be forthcoming as we corroborate the evidence from Reddish K**b on a clear day in the near future:)

It was a short hike to the two story viewing platform at the summit. Part of the walk hinted of Gaudineer, west of Durbin, with sections of overgrown moss. An Inukshuk figure was stacked on one of the broken slabs of rock dotting the area. There was a fairly clear view to the west providing a nice background for some good pictures, once we caught our breath. The pecan pie and ice cream, earlier, provided some good fuel. I know. I’m geezing:)

The ride home, as always is the case over Snowy Mountain, was a treat. The scenery is curiously unique here. How all those cows graze on those steep slopes is beyond me. They must be part mountain goats. The ride through Blue Grass and another valley whose name escapes me, is another slice of heaven. In a couple of weeks, the views here will be as spectacular as any with the leaves changing, only without the traffic.

And like so many rides before, this one had ended way too soon. We said our goodbyes to Henry and Joyce in Monterey. A big shout out goes to Steve and Trenda Varner. They’ve been awesome friends and very supportive neighbors. I hope they get to ride more. The GL was a genuine pleasure. At least it wasn’t completely over. Once home, I had hundreds of pictures to go through. Rose also has OPTD. I also had a story to write. It’s something I always look forward to; even if it was about k**bs:)

Cheers and thanks for reading!!

16/10/2018

Sensing some may be exploring options this month where to ride for a fall trip, fewer journeys this time of year have been as indelible as ours was to Ohiopyle Falls, PA four years ago. Click the "album" link for the pics and story. Enjoy!

From our trip to Ohiopyle Falls, PA, earlier this month. Please enjoy!

Pennsylvania was calling. We had been up to Porcupine Falls earlier in the spring and rode past the falls at Ohiopyle on that trip. There was a construction project going on, so we couldn’t get a good look and made a mental note to return when we could. Wednesday and Thursday were looking like great days for an overnighter, with highs near 60 and no rain until Friday. According to the almanac everyone seems to be referring to, it wouldn’t be long before the sounds of motorcycles would be replaced by the eager echoes of snowmobiles and ATVs. It seemed to be a golden window for couple carpe diems.

I was navigating with my android and its GPS app. We rolled through Romney and once past Keyser and the Potomac River, it vectored us along Rt. 135 to Luke. I immediately detected a note in the air, similar to the Covington, VA area, as if a paper mill was nearby. It wasn’t long before we saw a tall smoke stack surrounded by industrial buildings, like something out of a Half-Life video game. It was later determined that this was the NewPage Luke Paper Mill, but there was no sign of Gordon Freeman.

In a few miles, we were instructed to turn right on Rt. 495. Unlike the notorious Capital Beltway, that shares the same route number, this heavenly road was the complete opposite of the hellish stress pot, the loop around our Nations’ Capital, has become. Farm after farm, homestead after homestead, this rolling ribbon, of fifth gear hills, valleys and sweepers, was everything a cruiser was made for. It was one of those roads where shifting and braking were seldom needed, and with the non-existent traffic, the roll on power of our V-Twin, made it feel like soaring through the air at times.

Rush shuffled four in a row on my android, as I noticed the leaves popping on the trees. In their autumnal brilliance, the complexity of colors was enhanced by the perfectly timed fills, of one of the most inspiring percussionists, lyricists, and authors of our time. It’s only fitting, he rides a motorcycle too. If only “The Trees” was one of the songs that played. That would have been truly extraordinary.

Riding in October has a very unique flavor. In addition to the leaves changing, the lawn art takes on a new, dark twist in anticipation of Halloween. Laughter could sometimes be heard, over the music, as the over the top displays, were seen as we passed by.

A sign for the Youghiogheny (Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd), Dam pointed to the left. I immediately obliged. I can’t seem to pass them up. They usually provide great picture fodder, and this one didn’t disappoint. It was a 1610 foot long, 184 feet high, earthen structure built in 1944, and like so many in the mountains, helped the hills act like hands scooping the water from their basin below, and turning it into a picturesque lake. This setting would soon require a frame and a wall.

We arrived at the Yough Plaza Motel, our base camp for the night. It was very inviting with its stained wood siding, and cozy, clean rooms. It was also within walking distance to the falls and a pub. At $110/night though, it was a little pricey, especially in October on a weeknight, but its location made everything convenient. There would be no cab fares and I don’t mind supporting small, local businesses. They had flat screens, but a frig, microwave and coffee maker would have made it more palatable.

We were pleasantly surprised how much water was flowing over the falls. The roar of water could be heard from our room, so, by the time we got there, everything crescendoed in a timeless splash. There were three viewing decks linked by stairs, intimately sparced by a few people. This is what we came to see and it was fantastic! There were cascades nearly everywhere upriver. The rising mist, seemed to metaphorically lift the weight of the world, off our shoulders. And in those moments of serene clarity, we stood a while, together in each other’s arms, alone in our thoughts, experiencing creation in motion.

We were hungry, so we walked over the bridge to the Falls River Pub, across the street a short ways from a river rafting outfitter. A couple of employees were stacking rafts in a trailer for the next day’s trip. A sign said they would provide tours through October. Brrrrr! We spent the rest of the evening enjoying the local atmosphere, sampling the eclectic selection of craft beers, including “Mama’s Little Yella Pils”, and playing pool. The beer marinated, steamed shrimp was a hit, unlike the 8-ball continuously finding the pocket prematurely.

We walked a block to the Falls Market for breakfast the next day. They had a cozy dining room and a tasty and inexpensive breakfast. An obligatory TV was showing morning programing featuring Michael Thtrahan, the retired football player. Fortunately, the sound was muted. Elsewhere, my gaze caught a rack of postcards, mostly of the falls. They reminded me of my late Father, who would often send them to me on his trips. The apple, I thought, hadn’t fallen far from the tree. We both have and had, a real lust for travel. His often involved planes, trains and automobiles. Mine have some wheels missing, and the only altitude, is gained or lost in mountains. I silently thanked him. I can’t imagine any other lifestyle that I’d rather be living.

With Nauti loaded, we parked by the falls for one last glimpse, before we made our way home. We found ourselves entranced again, as if it were yesterday, wishing we could do it all over. Like the waters flowing downstream, I realized these would soon be memories on the fond banks of the past. Parting such beauty, is always sweet sorrow. Sorrow, because it’s time to get back to reality. Sweet, because it would involve another motorcycle ride on awesome roads with great scenery. It beats standing around, waiting for a suitcase.

We took a different route, passing through the scenic resort of Deep Creek Lake. It was in the 50s and there were a few boats out, mainly fishing. The ski area was visible on the mountain across the water, its green trails, quietly resisting, its inevitable white winter blanket, in the weeks to come. Fall’s grip, on this October day, however, was firmly in control. The distinctive black ribbon with yellow striping on routes 38 and 42, stretching over nature’s autumnal wrapping paper, made for a fantastic gift. As magic filled the air once again, it became abundantly clear, experiences like these, can only be truly appreciated, on a motorcycle. It’s something I don’t take for granted. Out of all the lives that have ever lived, and of all the planets in solar systems, in galaxies in our universe, I’ve chosen this one, right here, right now. The odds for this occurring are nearly astronomically impossible, yet here we are. And like so many enthusiasts, I’ve realized riding on two wheels, is about as close to heaven, as one gets.

Cheers and thanks for reading!

12/09/2018

Several years ago I used to use stops along the C&O Canal as motivation for my rides. It was a great way to discover awesome back roads and learn about history as well. This would be amazing to see!

31/08/2018

Black Bird: The Director's Cut

I’ve often said, “Projects beget projects.” Perhaps some of you can relate; especially if you’re like me and have the Tim The Tool-Man Taylor gene, and can’t get through a repair or build without an additional trip to the auto parts or hardware store. Rides can have the same effect, but in a good way. While on last month’s ride with John Edmunds and crew, Rose and I couldn’t help but feel intrigued when we heard about the Skyline Lodge in WV. Like the old E. F. Hutton commercials we watched on Sundays as kids, we were all ears.

The squeeze was on as we bisected two foothills on one of our favorite roads: Rt. 84. I had awoke earlier to the smell of bacon and found Rose in the kitchen donning her new Thunder Roads T shirt. One of my favorite machines, Black Bird, provided by Shenandoah Harley Davidson, selling the coolest products on earth, was also anxiously awaiting her crew for a rare chance to ride together on a dry day off.

Rush’s “Camera Eye” and Van Halen’s “Mean Streets” shuffled back-to-back. There’s somewhat of a transformation when motion and balance are shared, like a long awaited visit from a loved one, together again. The music seems to enhance the connection: from just watching the movie, to starring in it. Over the course of a lifetime of leading roles, there are few other awards issued as “Best Motion Picture”, than that of a motorcycle.

We arrived in White Sulfur Springs for a plumbing stop. Our flick was going extraordinarily well. We had the roads mostly to ourselves and we couldn’t ask for a more perfect day. We had passed a pipeline staging area near Minihaha Springs complete with dozens of backhoes on tracks. The Emmy, however, thus far, for best scene in an action movie, had to have been the chase up Jack Mountain, earlier, by the world’s fastest Prius. I can’t imagine anyone driving a hybrid, ever having that much fun.

I could hear the director in my head yelling “CUT!” as we arrived in Lewisburg, just in time for the state fair. I was just following the GPS and hadn’t studied the route in particular, so I had no idea what was going on. We were wondering why we saw so many blue lights until we spotted the Ferris wheels. We got through it and after one of the last lights, stopping on the steepest hill ever, Rose and I found ourselves in the countryside once again. “AAAnnnd,,,ACTION!!!”

We were following the Greenbrier River on Rt. 3/12. We elected not to stop at the Bluestone Dam in the interest of time, only to find ourselves stuck behind a beer truck, which was doing his best imitation of the Prius earlier, and doing amazingly well for as big as he was. Black Bird made quick work of him in the only clear passing zone for the next several miles. It was very fortuitous as the riding became very technical and extremely fun!

We were given instructions to turn left on to Mountain View Road. I always wonder when going from a back road with paint, to one without, what’s in store. At first, it reminded me of Rt. 72, near Canaan Valley: a paved golf cart path, once carved by goats, traveling over the hills. This one, however, along with its numerous first gear corners, was sprawling with houses. And they weren’t hunting cabins.

We arrived a few miles later at our predetermined coordinates. I could see why our new friends have stayed here. The Skyline Lodge looked warm and inviting, especially with the lake behind, and a pub and grill on site. Places like these are what I call gems. They are strategically located near parks, waterfalls, lakes, and a host of other attractions bikers are eager to explore. And at the end of the day, park the bike, relax and hang with friends, or meet new ones. There are many places we haven’t seen before in this area. An overnighter here seems like a no-brainer.

Heading home, we stumbled on Little Beaver State Park, which features an 18 acre lake and a 400 foot long dam made from chiseled sandstone, like many of the landmarks along the C&O Canal. We took some pics and hiked a short trail to the top of the dam, hand in hand. It dawned on me that it had been a long while since just the two of us had spent a day on a bike. We watched as a co-ed high school track team began their run; amused at the boys viing to attract the most attention from the girls. It was rated G, and suitable for all audiences.

The rest of the movie featured countless scenes of beautiful green mountains and majestic blue and white backgrounds to Grammy award winning soundtracks. We passed our UPS driver doing his best impression of the fastest Prius on three wheels, near home, as he pulled over to let us by. I haven’t figured out what category to put that one in.

Just as the last ride inspired this one. Future one’s will not likely happen, if it wasn’t for this latest reel. Inspired again for the next ride is somewhat of a byproduct of motorcycling: a perpetual motion if you will, of self sustaining energy. Always thinking about the next ride and sharing it with my co-star, is an addiction like no other. They’re the greatest roles I’ll ever know!

Cheers and thanks for reading!