Alamode
Well-known member
I just got back from a ~4,200 km trip down Skyline Drive/Blue Ridge Parkway with an unplanned sprint to Deals Gap.
I don't plan much of anything when I do road trips. I set milestones to make sure I'm covering enough ground on any given day, but they move depending on how far I make it at any stage of the trip. The route was fairly simple: 2 days to Front Royal, 2 days south on skyline/BRP, 1 day to tool around in NC/Tennessee, then the reverse home. I left on Saturday (May 30) but because of weather deliberations I didn't hit the road until noon. I should have just sucked it up and left at 9am when I had planned because I would run into rain almost every day, so a couple more hours of it wouldn't have made a difference.
Rain was a major player in this trip. It was mostly overcast or mixed cloud cover until I cleared Buffalo and stepped into the Alleghenies where I got my first steady taste of rain. It wasn't a terrible amount of rain, but it was enough to keep me honest. No big deal, the roads are wonderfully scenic even when everything is wet. After a day tooling around the mountains I set up camp in the rain, which would be a consistent happening throughout the trip.
I woke up to a nice fog and feeling somewhat disoriented, probably due to the lack of sun. I carry a GPS, but I hate it and mostly use it to get myself un-lost. I ended up heading north by mistake, and being stubborn I couldn't just turn around. I had to find a route that would turn be back south. Have you ever been lost but surprisingly end up in the right place? I have no idea how I got from St. Marys PA to Front Royal, but it was enjoyable and mostly avoided the interstate (a general mantra I use while travelling in the US). I did get wet, but it was sporadic. For me, rain is barely a concern when the roads aren't technical. I did end up setting up camp in the rain again, which sucks, but at this point I wasn't discouraged yet.
On Monday morning I started on Skyline Drive. It was a beautiful sunny start and Skyline is a beautiful road. Given that it was my first time, I spent far too much time stopping for photos because I didn't yet occur to me that I would be seeing the same sort of thing for the next 500 miles. I was well prepared for the low speed limits, but I Was completely unprepared for how empty the park was. I can't remember if I saw a single other vehicle after stopping for the park pass. The speed limits as a result, may or may not have been adhered to in the strictest manner. But it was still slow going considering how many times I stopped at scenic overlooks.
100 miles later I unceremoniously transitioned from Skyline to the BRP. It's the same road, but the name changes and the speed limit increases from 35 to 45. I also started to encounter rain at this point, in quick and violent downpours. The storms rolling through really set a mood about the mountains. It was dangerous, it was precarious, and just when you thought things were starting to clear up another dark cloud would appear down the next straight. Also deer. Deer were mostly considerate and opted to stand in the middle of the long straights, and I only had one pant-******** moment in the whole trip (which happened so fast I'm not even sure it really happened). Despite the rain I was still able to maintain a good speed; there was some police presence early on, but as soon as the rain started showing itself I stopped seeing the state troopers. My day ended in a violent downpour that convinced me to stop for the night in Roanoke, and to take some time to dry out in a hotel.
Back on the parkway bright and early, with a goal to reach Asheville as a minimum for the day. The rain started early but gave me some respite towards the middle of the day. More steady rain stuck around for the afternoon and my mood was at its lowest point thus far. It was only made worse when, in the middle of an up-hill blind right hander I started losing power. My trusty VFR was coughing and sputtering, and no matter how much I twisted the throttle she wouldn't pick up. Being stranded a couple of miles out from the last place you saw a building is an interesting experience. Make it happen in a precarious spot and in the middle of a thunder storm and it really adds a fresh kind of terror. For fear of getting plowed by the virtually non-existent on-coming traffic, I rolled backwards down the hill until the grade was gradual enough that I could turn around and coast into the first vehicle-wide shoulder I could find.
A few quick diagnostics indicated my battery was dead, so I did the only thing I could which was wait and try to flag down someone to get a boost. Surprisingly, a handful of cars came around the bend, and unsurprisingly none of them stopped. It was a difficult position, and a dangerous place to stop so I was sympathetic. Eventually a kind soul pulled over and we linked batteries in hopes that it would get me to Little Switzerland, which I had passed a couple of miles earlier. "It's mostly downhill" was the only optimism I could muster. It was mostly downhill, and fortunately the 10 minute charge lasted me exactly far enough to get to the hotel parking lot, and not a step further. Soggy and downtrodden, I checked in for the night. I would have to sort out a tow in the morning as everything had closed up for the day already. As the evening wore on, other riders pulled into the hotel where we collectively determined that my charging system was probably cooked. I had an inkling already since it had happened once before, but it's nice to have a bunch of people agree with you so you know you're not crazy. I should also mention that the hotel staff at the Switzerland Inn were very helpful and accommodating in sorting out the mess.
I arranged a tow in the morning through AAA which got me to a pretty cool dealer in Asheville called MRCycle. Since I was travelling they brought me in the shop right away and quickly determined that the wiring harness coming off the stator had turned itself into an ugly charred mess. All of the voltages and amperages coming off the system were okay, so they just spliced a new harness on. They also took care to make sure it wasn't caused by anything external. Waiting around all day was brutal, but I killed time by talking to the sales staff and other customers as they browsed the show floor. All in all it cost me $400 and a day, so it wasn't as bad as I was expecting and not an impossible setback. I was only slightly bitter when it started to rain just as I was pulling out of the dealership after having been a beautiful hot and sunny day up to that point. The bitterness subsided when I experienced southern BBQ for the first time.
I only got a couple of hours of riding in before setting up camp on the parkway, in the rain of course. The number of bikes seen on the parkway had increased substantially since Asheville which was a sign of things to come.
The morning greeted me with heavy fog, which was really more like heavy clouds resting atop the mountains. The ride was chilly and damp, but it wasn't raining. The fog subsided as I dipped into the valleys and dispersed all together as I made a final descent into Cherokee, the end of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Success! Mostly! Sure I had skipped a chunk between Little Switzerland and Asheville on account of the tow, but I had done most of it. I rode through the side show that was Cherokee and headed straight for Deals Gap. Straight is not a good word to use, as there was not a straight road in sight. I discovered quickly that North Carolina is an asphalt playground for motorcycles nestled in a beautiful landscape that defies belief. Unsurprisingly, the number of motorcycles on the road escalated dramatically. Very surprisingly, the sun would continue to shine without a cloud in sight for the remainder of the day.
Deals Gap and the infamous Tail of the Dragon appeared abruptly, as most things do in technical mountain roads. One minute I was enjoying solitary motorcycle bliss, and the next I was in a carnival of engine noise, rock & roll, and mingling bikers of all sorts. The tree of shame stood proudly amidst cacophony of two wheeled vehicles, and I think that someone should erect a shrine to all of the dead cows that frequent the place. It was just after noon, and while the place was busy it wasn't nearly as busy as I had come to expect. I rode the tail once in each direction and aside from one poor soul who ran out of gas in the middle, I never came across another bike travelling in the same direction. To be fair, one motard rider came across me as if to highlight just how much faster a more competent rider could be going. He was easy enough to hear coming and I had already pulled over before he had time to get annoyed with me being in the way. That deserves some kind of credit right?
It was intense. The dragon is super fun balanced out by super dangerous. Pegs were scraped, legs were aching, and BBQ was consumed. Shooting the breeze with other like-minded riders is always a good time. Tales of distances traveled, roads worth riding and unfortunate mishaps were plentiful. I even got to witness a donation being made to the tree of shame by a sad rider of a Ducati 848 (He was fine, but he was sad).
Unfortunately losing a day meant that I had to head home that afternoon. I tried to make the best of North Carolina by heading back to Cherokee via different route. Heading home is usually accompanies by a bit of sadness, but I was pretty excited to get back on the parkway and finish up the stretch I missed earlier. Of course that meant getting back into the rain, and setting up camp in the rain, but spirits were much higher at that point.
Coming back on Little Switzerland I took a bit of time to ride the 226A 'Diamond Back', which is a nice technical sprint. After that I was forced to hit the slab. After a day of motorcycling bliss interstate riding seemed especially brutal. It's also where I realized how uncomfortable my cracked and worn seat is now. On the plus side, it had stopped raining! I had a bit of time to ride more secondary highways through Pennsylvania again which was a nice break, but inevitably I ended back on the interstate through Buffalo and then the QEW. I also made the mistake of following the lake shore through Niagara Falls and Niagara-on-the-Lake on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. If you like moving, don't do that.
All in all it was a great experience despite the rain and the break-down. Setbacks are an expectation for me at this point as I have yet managed to spend a week or more on the road without something unexpected popping up. It's all part of the adventure.
I don't plan much of anything when I do road trips. I set milestones to make sure I'm covering enough ground on any given day, but they move depending on how far I make it at any stage of the trip. The route was fairly simple: 2 days to Front Royal, 2 days south on skyline/BRP, 1 day to tool around in NC/Tennessee, then the reverse home. I left on Saturday (May 30) but because of weather deliberations I didn't hit the road until noon. I should have just sucked it up and left at 9am when I had planned because I would run into rain almost every day, so a couple more hours of it wouldn't have made a difference.
Rain was a major player in this trip. It was mostly overcast or mixed cloud cover until I cleared Buffalo and stepped into the Alleghenies where I got my first steady taste of rain. It wasn't a terrible amount of rain, but it was enough to keep me honest. No big deal, the roads are wonderfully scenic even when everything is wet. After a day tooling around the mountains I set up camp in the rain, which would be a consistent happening throughout the trip.
I woke up to a nice fog and feeling somewhat disoriented, probably due to the lack of sun. I carry a GPS, but I hate it and mostly use it to get myself un-lost. I ended up heading north by mistake, and being stubborn I couldn't just turn around. I had to find a route that would turn be back south. Have you ever been lost but surprisingly end up in the right place? I have no idea how I got from St. Marys PA to Front Royal, but it was enjoyable and mostly avoided the interstate (a general mantra I use while travelling in the US). I did get wet, but it was sporadic. For me, rain is barely a concern when the roads aren't technical. I did end up setting up camp in the rain again, which sucks, but at this point I wasn't discouraged yet.
On Monday morning I started on Skyline Drive. It was a beautiful sunny start and Skyline is a beautiful road. Given that it was my first time, I spent far too much time stopping for photos because I didn't yet occur to me that I would be seeing the same sort of thing for the next 500 miles. I was well prepared for the low speed limits, but I Was completely unprepared for how empty the park was. I can't remember if I saw a single other vehicle after stopping for the park pass. The speed limits as a result, may or may not have been adhered to in the strictest manner. But it was still slow going considering how many times I stopped at scenic overlooks.
100 miles later I unceremoniously transitioned from Skyline to the BRP. It's the same road, but the name changes and the speed limit increases from 35 to 45. I also started to encounter rain at this point, in quick and violent downpours. The storms rolling through really set a mood about the mountains. It was dangerous, it was precarious, and just when you thought things were starting to clear up another dark cloud would appear down the next straight. Also deer. Deer were mostly considerate and opted to stand in the middle of the long straights, and I only had one pant-******** moment in the whole trip (which happened so fast I'm not even sure it really happened). Despite the rain I was still able to maintain a good speed; there was some police presence early on, but as soon as the rain started showing itself I stopped seeing the state troopers. My day ended in a violent downpour that convinced me to stop for the night in Roanoke, and to take some time to dry out in a hotel.
Back on the parkway bright and early, with a goal to reach Asheville as a minimum for the day. The rain started early but gave me some respite towards the middle of the day. More steady rain stuck around for the afternoon and my mood was at its lowest point thus far. It was only made worse when, in the middle of an up-hill blind right hander I started losing power. My trusty VFR was coughing and sputtering, and no matter how much I twisted the throttle she wouldn't pick up. Being stranded a couple of miles out from the last place you saw a building is an interesting experience. Make it happen in a precarious spot and in the middle of a thunder storm and it really adds a fresh kind of terror. For fear of getting plowed by the virtually non-existent on-coming traffic, I rolled backwards down the hill until the grade was gradual enough that I could turn around and coast into the first vehicle-wide shoulder I could find.
A few quick diagnostics indicated my battery was dead, so I did the only thing I could which was wait and try to flag down someone to get a boost. Surprisingly, a handful of cars came around the bend, and unsurprisingly none of them stopped. It was a difficult position, and a dangerous place to stop so I was sympathetic. Eventually a kind soul pulled over and we linked batteries in hopes that it would get me to Little Switzerland, which I had passed a couple of miles earlier. "It's mostly downhill" was the only optimism I could muster. It was mostly downhill, and fortunately the 10 minute charge lasted me exactly far enough to get to the hotel parking lot, and not a step further. Soggy and downtrodden, I checked in for the night. I would have to sort out a tow in the morning as everything had closed up for the day already. As the evening wore on, other riders pulled into the hotel where we collectively determined that my charging system was probably cooked. I had an inkling already since it had happened once before, but it's nice to have a bunch of people agree with you so you know you're not crazy. I should also mention that the hotel staff at the Switzerland Inn were very helpful and accommodating in sorting out the mess.
I arranged a tow in the morning through AAA which got me to a pretty cool dealer in Asheville called MRCycle. Since I was travelling they brought me in the shop right away and quickly determined that the wiring harness coming off the stator had turned itself into an ugly charred mess. All of the voltages and amperages coming off the system were okay, so they just spliced a new harness on. They also took care to make sure it wasn't caused by anything external. Waiting around all day was brutal, but I killed time by talking to the sales staff and other customers as they browsed the show floor. All in all it cost me $400 and a day, so it wasn't as bad as I was expecting and not an impossible setback. I was only slightly bitter when it started to rain just as I was pulling out of the dealership after having been a beautiful hot and sunny day up to that point. The bitterness subsided when I experienced southern BBQ for the first time.
I only got a couple of hours of riding in before setting up camp on the parkway, in the rain of course. The number of bikes seen on the parkway had increased substantially since Asheville which was a sign of things to come.
The morning greeted me with heavy fog, which was really more like heavy clouds resting atop the mountains. The ride was chilly and damp, but it wasn't raining. The fog subsided as I dipped into the valleys and dispersed all together as I made a final descent into Cherokee, the end of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Success! Mostly! Sure I had skipped a chunk between Little Switzerland and Asheville on account of the tow, but I had done most of it. I rode through the side show that was Cherokee and headed straight for Deals Gap. Straight is not a good word to use, as there was not a straight road in sight. I discovered quickly that North Carolina is an asphalt playground for motorcycles nestled in a beautiful landscape that defies belief. Unsurprisingly, the number of motorcycles on the road escalated dramatically. Very surprisingly, the sun would continue to shine without a cloud in sight for the remainder of the day.
Deals Gap and the infamous Tail of the Dragon appeared abruptly, as most things do in technical mountain roads. One minute I was enjoying solitary motorcycle bliss, and the next I was in a carnival of engine noise, rock & roll, and mingling bikers of all sorts. The tree of shame stood proudly amidst cacophony of two wheeled vehicles, and I think that someone should erect a shrine to all of the dead cows that frequent the place. It was just after noon, and while the place was busy it wasn't nearly as busy as I had come to expect. I rode the tail once in each direction and aside from one poor soul who ran out of gas in the middle, I never came across another bike travelling in the same direction. To be fair, one motard rider came across me as if to highlight just how much faster a more competent rider could be going. He was easy enough to hear coming and I had already pulled over before he had time to get annoyed with me being in the way. That deserves some kind of credit right?
It was intense. The dragon is super fun balanced out by super dangerous. Pegs were scraped, legs were aching, and BBQ was consumed. Shooting the breeze with other like-minded riders is always a good time. Tales of distances traveled, roads worth riding and unfortunate mishaps were plentiful. I even got to witness a donation being made to the tree of shame by a sad rider of a Ducati 848 (He was fine, but he was sad).
Unfortunately losing a day meant that I had to head home that afternoon. I tried to make the best of North Carolina by heading back to Cherokee via different route. Heading home is usually accompanies by a bit of sadness, but I was pretty excited to get back on the parkway and finish up the stretch I missed earlier. Of course that meant getting back into the rain, and setting up camp in the rain, but spirits were much higher at that point.
Coming back on Little Switzerland I took a bit of time to ride the 226A 'Diamond Back', which is a nice technical sprint. After that I was forced to hit the slab. After a day of motorcycling bliss interstate riding seemed especially brutal. It's also where I realized how uncomfortable my cracked and worn seat is now. On the plus side, it had stopped raining! I had a bit of time to ride more secondary highways through Pennsylvania again which was a nice break, but inevitably I ended back on the interstate through Buffalo and then the QEW. I also made the mistake of following the lake shore through Niagara Falls and Niagara-on-the-Lake on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. If you like moving, don't do that.
All in all it was a great experience despite the rain and the break-down. Setbacks are an expectation for me at this point as I have yet managed to spend a week or more on the road without something unexpected popping up. It's all part of the adventure.
