Cyclefest Bike Games Day

It was another clear, sunny morning. I could get used to this. The campground got buzzed early by a two person ultralite aircraft. What it lacked in speed it made up for in noise.

We headed over to the big tent for breakfast where we found there had been nefarious doings overnight. Someone, certainly not one of us, had stolen Kevin's Primus gas stove and propane bottle and Fred's archaic Coleman gas lantern while we slept. This is unusual at one of our gatherings.

Patsy Appleby and Diane Marier decided to take up a collection to see if we could replace the stolen items. After a pass through the rallyists, they came up with $206.00. They made a trip into town with Sandy, Tom and Heather and came back with new gear. The bill had come to $205.16, which I found pretty spooky. We found later that some type of electric bike had been taken from the regular campers as well and that the campground owners had an idea who the thief might have been.

The day got hotter as they readied the field for the bike games. These are fun competitions where riders and passengers try to score in various events. In the Ring Toss, the bike rides a path while the passenger tries to throw hula-hoops over stakes at varying distances. The Water Wok has the passenger holding a wok with one liter of water over the rider's head as they traverse a bumpy course. The one with the most water left at the end wins. The slow race involves head to head competitions, with the last rider completing the section without putting there feet down the winner. This consumed most of the afternoon. Terry and his daughter Amber won the Water Wok by not spilling a drop and Jules Delorme, from the French Connection, won the slow race as usual.

Supper in the big tent was handled by Grand Valley Caterers again. They had turkey, garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing and a rolled rib dish along with salads. They served us so much the first time that few went back for seconds. The dessert was either Black Forest or carrot cake.

After supper, the awards and door prizes were handed out. I won a fleece jacket that Sandy appropriated, while Heather won a nice GoldWing jacket and Kim won leather gloves. In the awards, Heather won youngest female rider and got honourable mention for low poker run score. Someone else beat her 4 with a 2. Kim received her 25 year attendance pin (Heather missed a year in the Azores) and Mike got a 5 year award. The crew from Waterloo Wings did an outstanding job with the weekend and we thank them for all their efforts.

Our time at the fire was short tonight. We looked at some pictures Ian was projecting in the big tent and then turned in. The evening was warmer and dryer than the last few.

Cyclefest Poker Run Day

It was sunny again this morning. What a great trend to get into.

Today we had toast and coffee under the big rally tent. It was poker/observation run day, a staple of this rally. Heather and I used to compete in the observation run, a ride that has questions you need to answer based on things you see along the road. We have done quite well at it on occasion. This year, since she was riding her own bike, we only entered the poker run part. This involved games of skill and chance (often both) at checkpoints along the route. Tom rode behind me and navigated.

We pulled a letter for a score at the start, and then began by following Fred's group. After a problem with the directions in Elora that turned us around (curse you, Ian), I figured the group was stressing Heather and we went our own way. Tom was good at calling the turns and we found the first checkpoint with no problem. This test involved throwing stars at various sized hoops. I did OK, Tom did well and Heather missed. Since she only drew a 4 at the start, she figured she might be in the running for low score.

On the way to the next checkpoint, we stopped in Heidelberg for lunch. A number of other riders were at the same place and we sat next to Jeannie, Rich and Kenny from New York. I took the Ontario atlas and figured that the next checkpoint was in the same community centre parking lot in New Dundee where Heather did her practicing last fall. Rather than follow the route, I asked Stella to take us right there and she did via some little used back roads. The next test involved shooting foam darts from a pistol at various sized hoops. Again, Tom did well while Heather and I both tanked.

Since the last two checkpoints were at the finish, I asked Stella to take us straight back. What followed was a back street run through Kitchener the likes of which I have never seen before. But we got there without any problems. The last tests involved a bow and arrow and soccer balls. I did OK, Tom did OK and Heather kept her 4 intact.

I need to comment on Heather's riding. She hasn't done many miles because she only rides when I am around, but she did very well on the ride. I was impressed and some others commented favourably to me as well.

The family plus Maggie and Joe went to Crossroads for the supper buffet. After a 45 minute wait, we were seated and again ate more than we should have. But it was good. Then we headed back to the campground. Some went to the fire while others played 'dirty bingo'. Howard and his banjo, Eileen and her accordion and Lois and her guitar played requests, often by ear, and people sand along. I even did a solo of Me and Bobby McGee at one point while stone cold sober. Occasionally I scare myself. Most songs were trouble because everyone remembers the lyrics for the first stanza and then runs out of steam. We need song books for next year.

Tonight was earlier to bed. I headed in at 1:00 AM this time.

Cyclefest Friday

Sandy and I woke early to the clip-clop of horses hooves on asphalt as a Mennonite buggy went up the road on the other side of the Grand River. There was a large amount of dew, so we wiped the bikes down well and I checked Heather's front tire. It was way down when we picked the bike up yesterday and, although topped up, it looks like the slow leak had dropped it another two pounds overnight. After adjustung it, we then headed into Elmira for fuel and breakfast at the Sip 'n Bite. Two eggs, ham, toast and hashbrowns for $3.25.

After breakfast, took a little ride up back roads to Elora and Fergus, where we stopped at Canadian Tire so Heather could get a few bike items. Then we headed back to the campground and went through the ordeal of setting up our big screen tent (hard) and Maggie McLeod's tent (even harder).

That done, we sat back and watched people arrive. They came in all afternoon and we ended up with quite the community out behind us. Here, first timer Lloyd and veterans Bob & Martha, Fred and Gabby and Mabel are set up and kicking back under the sunny skies.

The forecast for the weekend is sunny and dry. Maybe for once, the weather man will get it right despite his spectacular failures so far this year.

As the sun got towards the horizon, Tom and then Kim and Mike finally showed up. The family headed out to Elora to the Gorge Family Restaurant. Lots of food at reasonable prices. As usual, most of us ate too much. From the left, we have son-in-law Mike, Kathy Dickinson from Ottawa, Maggie McLeod from near Cambridge, Tom, Heather, Kim and Sandy.

After supper, we headed back in the dark. It was another chilly, damp evening, so we hung out at the camp fire visiting with everyone. At the end, Mike, Amber Appleby and I called it quits at about 2:30 AM.

Sudbury Ontario to West Montrose Ontario

Going to Cyclefest

This will be the 28th Annual Cyclefest. They were started by the Waterloo County Touring Club at Chicopee Ski Lodge in Kitchener Ontario in 1980 and, for the last ten years, have been organized by the Waterloo Wings in West Montrose, near Elmira Ontario. Sandy and I have only missed one since they began, so you might say we've been in a rut on Labour Day Weekend. But it's a pretty good rut.

I finished some chores this morning. I got the August Freedom Riders books done and distributed to the Executive. Then, under clear and sunny skies, Sandy and I washed the bike and trailer. They were pretty dirty from the Interlochen run. Finally, we packed and loaded up and hit the road just before noon.

Traffic was light southbound and I kept it at a true 103 KPH through crosswinds from the east. We had some french fries at the stand next to the Shell station in Pointe Au Baril. They were spectacular, golden and crispy. We'll make this a regular stop from now on.

We usually cut east on either 89 or 9 and are cursed with slow drivers. This time, armed with Stella, I turned at 88, went west to Bond Head and cut a mile north to CR-1 towards Beeton. This went through Loretto and straight into the Hockley Road with virtually no traffic at all. Then, going through Fergus on my usual shortcut, Stella showed me an even better way. I am really getting to like this GPS.

Some people, including the ever present Fred Poyser, were at the campground a day early. We dropped the trailer and headed to Cambridge to meet Heather. When we all got to her apartment, we got her Rebel out of the garage, checked it and then rode back to Tom's place in Waterloo. With Tom and a carload of tents in tow, we headed back to the campground, getting there as the sun went down. Then we set up our trailer, Kim and Mike's EZ Tent and Heather and Tom's dome. We left the big screen dining tent for tomorrow. I made a run to Tim Horton's in Elmira and got sandwiches and pop for the gang.

After some time fending off the cold and damp sitting around a small fire tended by Buck and Tom of the French Connection (Tom is really from Pennsylvania), we hit the sack about 11:00 PM.

A Trip To Cambridge

Just got back from a quick trip to Cambridge. We took the van and enclosed trailer down Thursday and stayed at Kim and Mike's. Heather is in the process of moving in with Tom in Waterloo and this trip was to allow us to bring back some of the furnishings she didn't need but we could use.

Friday, while Heather and Tom were at work, Sandy did a little cleaning at the old apartment. That evening, we loaded a dresser, two night tables and a bed into the trailer. Kim and Mike had gone to Aylmer to see his folks, but Tom & Heather brought pizza and DVD's over.

Saturday, we were back at the apartment for a while and then went back to the house while H&T went to a BBQ.

Sunday, we stopped by Tom's for breakfast before heading back home.

Interlochen - Day 4

Interlochen Michigan to Sudbury Ontario

Today, August 19th, is the second anniversary of the bike accident that took Rick 'Wolfman' Jakubas from us. We miss you, Rick.

It rained overnight but had stopped by the time we got up. It started spitting again as we packed up to go and the sky looked grey, so we donned rain gear before pulling out. The round of goodbyes took a while. We do plan to see a number of the same people in Arkansas next month.

We skipped breakfast and headed back up US 31 encountering very little traffic. The skies cleared just north of Traverse City, a major break for us since later reports from those southbound indicated that they encountered ugly weather. We stopped briefly in Charlevoix for a Mickey D breakfast (very slow girl on the cash) and gas and then hauled on up through Petoskey and on to the Mackinac Bridge. For the first time in quite a while, there were no high wind warnings and, again, we were allowed to stay in the paved lane all the way over. No toll lines on our side, but we were surprised to see the southbound line at the booths lined up all the way back to the US 2 interchange. That can't be fun.

We stopped again for the last cheap gas in Soo Ontario. Then we crossed the border in the middle of the International Bridge. US bound traffic was lined up 3/4s of the way back on the bridge, while we only had a three car line-up to get into the Canadian booth. I am starting to have serious reservations about this two-lane bridge and the long waits that are happening with greater frequency.

We stopped at Mom's for a while and she made us sandwiches. I went to tighten a loose pinch bolt on my trailer hitch, one that keeps the drawbar from rattling in the receiver, but found it had fallen out. Something else to fix. The ride in from the Soo was fairly quick and uneventful. We got home to find that the contractors has finished 90% of the job. All that remained was some fine tuning.

Interlochen - Day 3

It was a cool morning. Boomer and his new dog, Scotty, Sandy, Slammer and Gearman huddle around the camp stove as the coffee is brewing and Slammer's digital thermometer says 36F. Luckily, despite the cold overnight, the ceramic heater and down comforter kept us toasty warm.

What's an Interlochen morning without breakfast at Grandma's? As soon as we warmed up a little, small groups started trickling down to the corner where we ate with gusto.

Our group decided to head north today, up to the Tunnel of Trees. Tomcat led, with us, Stonewall on his new (to him) Wing, Furhead and Gearman in tow. We rode up US 31 to Charlevoix, where traffic backed up as it merged from four lanes to two for the narrow downtown area. I blocked the right lane to prevent cars from slipping past us and cutting in but gave a Chrysler 300 from Pennsylvania a break because I though he might be heading for a side street. Nope, this guy figured he had special privileges that allowed him to by-pass all of us who were waiting in line. I moved back out and nobody else got by.

On the north side of Petoskey, we stopped in a pretty little municipal park. Signs, visible only to those using the restrooms, warned that smoking was prohibited in the entire park area. I chose to pretend that I hadn't been to the restroom. Smoking prohibitions are getting tighter and tighter.

Going north, we took a detour through Harbor Springs, a very upscale community right on the shore of Lake Michigan. Large houses, many of them quite old, lined the streets and impressive boats were docked at the marinas. I can only imagine what real estate goes for here.

The Tunnel of Trees is a narrow winding road that parallels the lake shore. The trees from both sides grow together blocking out the sky, hence the name. We were lucky because the only slow moving vehicles we came up behind pulled over and let us by. We saw southbound bikes trapped behind slow movers, a frustrating experience.

At Cross Village, we stopped at Legs Inn amid many motorcycles. Legs is named for a row of table legs mounted on the roof and features Polish cuisine served by summer students direct from, you guessed it, Poland. Sandy and I split a Taste of Poland specialty that included cabbage rolls on sauerkraut, perogies, kielbasa and dumplings. We talked to a contingent of Women on Wheels at the next table about upcoming rides in the area. Outside, afterwards, the Pennsylvania Chrysler 300 that annoyed me in Charlevoix was parked right in front of the restaurant. The middle aged driver was helping and elderly lady into the front seat so I opted to not tell him what I thought of his driving manners.

We got onto the big road and highballed it south. Stonewall broke off to go into Traverse City while Jack led the rest of us around town, getting us back to the campground about 6:00 PM. I pulled the awning down on the trailer so that we wouldn't be packing it wet with dew the next morning. There were a few new faces dropping by to see what VROC was all about, so we spent time talking to them and amongst ourselves. The fire got started again, but Sandy and I turned in even earlier than last night.

Interlochen - Day 2

We woke late and the group wandered down to Grandma's again for breakfast. Then, back at the campground, we broke into smaller groups to head out for some rides.

Tomcat led our crew south on US 31 to Manistee, where we stopped by the harbour.

Here, the bikes are lined up in the parking area as the brave souls wander down to the windswept water.

From Manistee, I took the lead with Stella guiding. We explored a new road, Mi 110, that headed north along the lake. It was limited to 35 MPH, but that was enough given the twists and turns it took among the cottages and summer homes. We will need a new sign to indicate sand dunes across the road, though. That was a surprise as I was leaning through a corner.

At the end of 110, we came to Mi 22, the usual route we take north. It consists of many sweepers with some tighter corners where it climbs and descends the massive sand dunes that make up the terrain in this area. We stopped at the usual scenic overlook and some of the more industrious members climbed the long stairs to the upper platform. I've been there before, so I sat down on a bench and waited.

From there, we continued north to Frankfort where we had a case of deja vu all over again. Last year, Tomcat was leading when he made a wrong turn. In the course of going through a parking lot and reversing direction, he got his foot caught under his floorboard and, essentially, ran over his own foot. Tomcat took the lead in Frankfort again to guide us to a restaurant and missed the same turn. As we pulled into the same parking lot, we all had the same feeling as the potted petunia in the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, "Oh no, not again". This time, Jack kept his feet up and we averted tragedy.

We ate at the Villa Marine Bar and Grill, the same place where The Mighty Stonewall got his Wing stuck the night before. Since Gord wasn't with us this time, we couldn't ask for an instant replay. Thanks for lunch, Jack. It was kind of you.

After lunch, I resumed the lead and we wound on up Mi 22 through Sleeping Bear Dunes. Then we cut south on some back roads, returning to Interlochen. With Stella's help, I'm pleased to say that this is the first run through this area that I can remember us not getting lost.

Back at the campground, Flip's plan of a potluck supper was coming together. They had collected money and set off with Slammer's truck to pick up food.


Here, Flip, Shelby and Lugnut discuss important things while Slammer, Flattop and Bugsplat cook away in the background. Food consisted of wings, corn on the cob, burgers, beans, several salads and other goodies. It was a fine repast and we give thanks to all those who made it happen.

This was the largest gathering we have had in Interlochen. Slammer even drove his truck all the way from North Carolina. Many were old familiar faces, but there were quite a few new ones as well. This blend of old and new friends is what keeps us coming back time after time. Special Kudos to Marlene, who made her first solo trip from Adrian Michigan. Scotty had come up earlier and Mar made better time than he did.

As usual, the fire started as the sun went down, although I found that an earlier bed time was a better choice and turned in about midnight.

Interlochen - Day 1

Sudbury Ontario to Interlochen Michigan

The contractors were hard at work this morning as we loaded the bike and trailer for the annual pilgrimage to the Michigan VROC gathering at Interlochen. I hate leaving while the work is still going on, but the gathering of the clan is a call we can't ignore.

We got on the road about 9:30, running into a stiff headwind from the west. The only thing of note between Sudbury and the Soo (188 miles) was one idiot in a Honda CRV with Connecticut plates who, when trailing a line of slow traffic led by a tandem dump truck, pulled out in a passing lane and failed to accelerate. Driving etiquette says this shouldn't happen. I was obnoxious enough in his mirror that he pulled back over and, accelerating to WARP 9, I managed to get by the truck before the passing lane ran out.

The bridge traffic over to Soo Michogan was backed way up onto the bridge again, an increasingly common occurrence. When we finally got into a line for a booth, it was very slow. It seems the Border Guard was a young lady with an eastern European accent who was very friendly but also very chatty. When I declared my one package of cigarettes, she even wanted to know when I was planning to quit:-)

Finally through Customs, we road the 50 miles south to the Mackinac Bridge, where we were surprised by another long line of vehicles waiting to pay the bridge toll. This was a new one on us. The bridge was under high wind warnings, but they were only medium high based on our past experience and we were not shuffled into the steel grate lane so it was a good crossing.

As we were on the last part of the bridge, I was passing a truck when I saw a bike with a black batwing fairing moving up on me. Once past the truck, I cleared the lane. As he pulled up even with us, I was surprised to see the infamous Wisconsin VROCer, Furhead, also Interlochen bound. We pulled off at the first exit to say hello. My plan had been to head down I-75 to Gaylord and then cut over, but Furhead was planning on US 31 through Petoskey so we decided to take his route with him. It was a good choice because the traffic was lighter than usual and it was an enjoyable ride.

Two things we noticed on the ride. First, the water in the big lakes were a strange shade of blue-green. Aqua or teal or something an interior decorator could identify. Second, some of the maples and poplars were already starting to change colour. Tomcat said he thought that was because they were drought stressed, but I'm thinking an early fall might be on the way.

We got to Cycle-Moore Campground in Interlochen about 6:00 PM. There were already a number of familiar faces in residence and a few new ones, too. We wandered down to Grandma's Restaurant at the corner for supper. Afterwards, everyone gathered at the campground and, as the sun went down, we lit the bonfire and sat around visiting. Sandy called it quits before I did, and I finally turned in about 2:00 AM.

It's been quite a week.......

Got down to see Mom last Friday, the same day the contractor started excavating our old driveway. They pulled up the asphalt, which had been laid right on the clay, and dug down three feet while widening at the same time. Then they filled it with slag, finer material and stone. It has been edged with 6x6 timber and drainage pipes and will be finished with crusher dust. They excavated the front and back, added to the tar line and are grading the yards away from the house. Tree stumps were removed , yards will be sodded and window wells added. Quite the project, but the guys working at Micugh Construction seem very conscientious and are paying a lot of attention to detail.

Tomorrow, we will leave them to their work and head to the annual Michigan VROC gathering in Interlochen. Look for some posts on this small but friendly weekend.

The Passing of a Fine Gentleman

Those of you who have followed our blog for a while may remember last July when we shared the great hospitality of Don "Very Short Person" Inamasu in Stockton, California. We shared several meals with his parents Leona and Frank.

It is with regret that I must inform you that Don's father Frank passed away Monday, August 6th at the age of 94. He led a long and productive life and it was an honour to have met him.

Here is a post Don made to the VROC newsgroup.

"Not many of you knew my dad. He worked until he was 79 years old. He basically died of old age at 94.

http://www.legacy.com/Link.asp?I=LS000092390707X

The Obit is incorrect in that ONLY Dad and my Uncle Mas were sent to Japan from 1916 to 1929 to live with their father's parents. When Dad graduated from high school in Japan is when he and my Uncle returned to Stockton to join the rest of his family who had remained in Stockton."

WWR Colorado Trip Day 11 - Home Again

Columbus Wisconsin to Sudbury Ontario

The final day. It was clear again and still warm. Also more humid than the last few days.

We loaded up and headed up US 151 to where it met US 41, then cruised right through Oshkosh and Green Bay rush hours with little difficulty. I kept it at a steady 9 over. After Escanaba, we stopped in Manistique, Michigan for lunch at Arby's and set our watches ahead for the final time. Then it was on to the border.

There was little traffic this time on the International Bridge. The very pretty border guard asked where we lived, how long we had been away and the value of what we had bought. When I said $2.00 (the side stand foot Gary paid for), she welcomed us home and let us go without checking ID. Norm took longer because he was talking with her about sidearm training and several other non-typical things. I would have like to have stopped and seen Mom, but it was after 5:00 PM and we were pushing daylight.

There was a flagman holding up traffic as we left town. The ambient air temperature gauge was reading 36C when we got moving, the hottest we saw on the return trip. Yikes. We carved traffic all down the north shore. A planned coffee stop in Blind River (named by Neil Young in Long May You Run) was scuttled because the Country Style was closed. As we approached Espanola, the one cell of the day, a pop-up, loomed on the horizon directly in our path. Maybe our luck had run out?

We stopped at Espanola for Timmy's Iced Cappucino. Since we would be splitting up when we got towards town, this was really the official ending to the trip. We closed it out the way we started it, in a Tim Horton's. Fitting. As Norm and Gary fueled, Sandy pointed out that this was another successful group ride in that we all seemed to still like each other. Normie continued to amaze me riding that Drifter with no windshield.

We hauled in the last 40 miles sparing no horses. Twenty miles from town, we went through an area where you could smell that it had just rained but, other than a few drops after that, we stayed dry. Normie peeled of on 144 and Gary left us downtown. We arrived in the driveway at 8:00 PM on the nose and Stella said we had covered 6,153.0 kilometers. Time and miles well spent seeing old friends, making new ones and putting faces to names.

August will be slow. There is the Freedom Rally here this weekend and then Interlochen later in the month. Other than that, there may be some local rides but this is usually the month we take it pretty easy before heading back out in September.

WWR Colorado Trip Day 10 - Serendipity

Council Bluffs Iowa to Columbus Wisconsin

Sandy and I were up at 5:30 AM. The Weather Channel said it was already 72F and the radar was clear. By 6:15, we were packed and had our free continental breakfast. By 7:00, I had done my tire checks, the last one in our group was finally up and we were ready to go. After a farewell to Stewey, saying we would see him in Arkansas in September, we headed east on I-80.

After some discussion last night, we decided that we would forgo the pleasure of riding through Chicago and Gary Indiana and would come up the west side of Lake Michigan instead. I told Stella that we wanted to go through Escanaba, Michigan to force this route and told her we wanted the fastest way. One problem with the GPS is that, while you always know where the next turn is, you are never quite sure where you are.

It turns out that Stella plotted a route across Iowa that I would never have picked on the map. I think we turned off I-80 onto I-380 towards Cedar Rapids and then caught US 151, a fine four lane road leading to Dubuque, Iowa. The countryside was beautiful, the traffic was light and the towns were mostly bypassed.

On the serendipity note, as we approached the town of Anamosa, Iowa, there were billboards advertising the National Motorcycle Museum. What a pleasant surprise. We just had to stop. Anamosa is a very quaint little town and the museum is right downtown. We got there at noon, just as the tornado sirens were being tested. I wonder what would happen if a real tornado arrived at noon? In picture one, Sandy is examining one of the original Captain America bikes from the movie Easy Rider. They also had replicas of Billy's bike and the one Fonda used in Wild Angels.

One of my favourites was this Indian. You can see that Steve McQueen wasn't a fan of washing bikes, either. The museum was well laid out with different sections. There was a great selection of Vincents, Indians and Harleys as well as many key Japanese bikes. In the racing section I actually saw a Flying Merkel. The amazing Ariel Square Four was there along with too many other legendary scoots to list. In addition, there were many other motorcycle related memorabilia items. The place was well worth the $7.00 admission and I expect to be back sometime when I have more time to wander.

Two items, side by side, did especially catch my eye. On the left is a 1974 RD-350 Yamaha identical to the one Sandy and her first husband, Brian, had. On the right, in orange and black, is a 1972 R5 350 Yamaha. My first bike was a 1970 R5 in fuchsia and white. Yes, fuchsia. I had a matching helmet, shirt and socks. Real men were tough in those days. It was really nice to find these pieces of our personal history in there.

When we tore ourselves away from the museum, we went across the road to Tucker's Tavern for lunch. Then, about 2:00 PM, we headed for Dubuque following Stella's directions. As it was on the way out, some of the road was so new that she thought we were back in the cornfields again. And what cornfields they were. Following the countours of the land, the corn rows and other lower crops followed seemingly random geometric patterns. This is so much more interesting than the dull old square fields.

We went through Dubuque and across the Mississippi River into Wisconsin. As the T-shirt said, smell the dairy air. We arrived in Madison at rush hour where our route consisted of a series of busy interchanges. I don't know where we went, but Stella gave me lots of warning as to which lane to be in each time and what road to take. I am developing some confidence in how this works and I like it.

With less than 600 miles to go, we knocked off for the night at an exit for Columbus, Wisconsin. There was a Culver's Frozen Custard and a Super 8. In the photo, Gary checks that the bikes are tucked in for the night. We walked over to the Columbus Restaurant for supper and then Normie accompanied Sandy and I to the Culver's where he watched us eat Caramel Cashew Sundaes.

Back at the hotel, the WiFi worked fine so I got some things done. I checked NASCAR and Mom, relegated to 2nd place last race by Fox, got ticked and scored what I think is a record 402 points. She is back in first with a bullet.

I've decided that the paper notebook, in additional to being susceptible to getting wet, is too cumbersome. The thoughts I have when riding usually escape my poor old noggin before I can write them down at the next stop. I'm going to get an electronic voice recorder to capture my ramblings as they occur to me. This may or may not be an improvement.

We set the alarms again and turned in early.

WWR Colorado Trip Day 9 - The Road Home

Grand Lake Colorado to Council Bluffs Iowa

The alarm watch went off at 5:30 AM Mountain Time. It was 11C and, for once, there were no ugly clouds hanging around the mountain tops. We had packed the side bags last night, so it was just a matter of putting the bag in the trunk.

Stewey was headed back to Peoria, Illinois across I-80 and we decided to ride together until our paths diverged. Since we were a little late getting going (due to an unnamed member of our group who was slow to rise), we headed out with Willie Wonka, Carlene and Phin who were heading east from Denver on I-70. Our group had talked about going west and north the catch 80 in Laramie to keep out of Denver, but the realization that it was Sunday morning caused a re-evaluation.

We headed out as ready heading south for the Shell station in Granby. On the way, we passed Slammer towing the Weedeater trailer with his little SUV and Toby on his new Wing. After fueling, I took the lead and we headed south on US 40 towards Winter Park. Soon we were into heavy fog and I was forced to once again question the smarts of people who drive in the fog with no lights on. Part way through, I though that Willie had been a little quiet and realized that my CB radio was turned off. When I fired it up, he said he had wondered where I was.

The fog cleared before Winter Park, where we headed up into Berthoud Pass and over the Continental Divide. It looks different in the dry daylight. On the way up, we again passed Slammer and Toby, who got by us while we were fueling up. Down out of Berthoud, we caught I-70 East and headed over to Denver. As Interstates go, this stretch is more interesting than most. Denver was quiet as we approached the I-76 split and, with waves, honks and words on the CB between Willie and I, the two groups separated.

We rode I-76 downslope to I-80 and Nebraska at 85 MPH. At the 80 junction there was a group of Corvettes heading east. One had a plate that said BLUBYU. No, he did not. The weatherman said the clouds and precipitation would stay south in Kansas today, but who believes him anyway. The overcast kept the temperature down and we eventually went to rain suits, which were needed for a ways around Kearney and Grand Island. Later, most unsuited but Sandy kept her gear on to protect the crew. Then, past Lincoln, I saw a nasty cell and some elected to put some gear back on. In that time, the clouds directly in front of us moved and we slid into Council Bluffs, Iowa dry.

There was a Settle Inn in Council Bluffs that Sandy and I stayed at back in 2004. When we got there, it turned out that Stewey was an alumnus as well. We got rooms and wandered over to Cracker Barrel for dinner. Then everyone headed back to their rooms and flaked out. I was hoping to get some things updated, but the WiFi provider the hotel uses doesn't get along with my notebook. I've had this problem before with this outfit. I need to get something updated with my built in WiFi card but it is such a rare occurrence that I never seem yo get a round tuit.

Good first day. We're on our timeline. Stewey will be leaving us in the morning, ahead of schedule, to go south and visit an old school buddy who is married to a lady Stewey used to date. Sounds like an interesting time for him.

Wolfman's Wandering Rally Wrap-up

This was a great gathering. The weather could have co-operated a little more, but the company was top knotch.

Thanks to Hail Mary "Bucky" Bucholtz for all the great work she did in spearheading this. Thanks also to the Colorado VROCers who helped and to Eric "El Nomad" Larsen for hosting the pre-WWR BBQ in Colorado Springs. My hat is off to all who contributed to this great success.

Special thanks to Willie "Wonka" Kohlenberger and his wife, the Lovely Carlene. Sharing the room at the Bluebird with you was a pleasure.

A number of people have posted Blogs and photos on the event and I thought it would be good to share them with you.

Sherm's Blog:

http://wwr07.blogspot.com/

ZMean One and Thrillseeker's Blog:

http://wildwestride.blogspot.com/

El Nomad's Blog

http://elnomad55.blogspot.com/

Cheap Bastard's Blog

http://wwrcheapbblog.blogspot.com/

Rubbergator's Blog:

http://wwr2007.blogspot.com/

Malachi and Corvette's Pictures:

http://www.joeandyvette.net/serendipity/index.php?/categories/19-VROC-Rally-Grand-Lake

Stewey's Pictures:

http://good-times.webshots.com/album/560102493RmeFVM

WWR Colorado Trip Day 8 - More Around Grand Lake

After two mornings at Sally's Fat Cat Cafe, most of the VROC gang had heard that it was the place to be. The difference today was that Sally has a buffet on Saturdays and Sundays. Here Sherm is checking out the dessert table. I'm really going to miss this place when we leave tomorrow. Sally and her gang have hospitality down to a fine art and, the next time I'm in Colorado, I'll make a special visit to Grand Lake just to eat here.

After breakfast, we hustled back to the Bluebird because we had set 9:00 AM as the time for the Tupperware Brigade group photo. Someone asked me why "Tupperware" and I had to tell her that they are plastic bikes. We had eleven Honda GL1800 GoldWings and one Honda SilverWing in the lineup.
To add insult to injury, three of the GoldWings are carrying VROC plates on their Wings. Sherm was first in Oregon, we were second in Ontario and now Brillo has the Iowa plate. Kawasaki should take note that they are missing the boat in the touring market, but then even if they did decide to go ahead with a bike to compete with the Wing it would be difficult to compete with the established reputation Honda has developed.

I have a feeling that there may be still more Tupperware down the road. Malachi and Corvette took this one out for a test ride and seemed to be impressed. I'm not sure why Mal is in the front seat, though, since Yvette does a fine job piloting her own drifter.

You can see the weather didn't improve much today. The storms were hit or miss, as they have been since we got here. After the photo shoot, we went down to the coffee shop to get on line. Then Sherm decided that he would like clear skies Sunday and announced he would be leaving shortly after noon. A group of us, consisting of Brillo & Deb, Willlie Wonka and Carlene and Sandy and I decided to accompany him the first 45 miles to Kremling. We were joined by Jeff Goodall, who we haven't seen in some time, and his friend Troy.

The ride through Byers Canyon was sporting for Sherm as we saw him pass some slow movers and flow away from us. Willie and I were at the back and didn't get quite the same run. In Kremling, we bade Sherm farewell after he got pictures of us in front of a building with a huge Vote Libertarian sign painted on the side. We'll be seeing Sherm, hopefully for an extended period together, in September so it really was only Au Revoir.

I lead the ride back to the Bluebird. Jeff and Troy, trying to catch up by a pass, almost got picked off by a State Trooper who turned on his roof lights after he passed me (luckily I was in slowed down by another car). I think it was a warning to them but he never turned around. When we got back, they said Grand Lake had been hit with a storm that included heavy rain and hail but the roads were dry by the time we got back. Looks like my luck is holding.

Stewey had led a ride out that I wanted to do, but Sandy said we had enough riding ahead of us. They went south over Berthout Pass and then up over Loveland Pass. Those of us remaining at the Bluebird did more visiting and I adjusted my cruising pegs and took a short nap. Group rides were coming back in when someone raised the question of supper. I suggested to a few that we go back to the Bear's Den for something light. By the time it was over, we had the banquet room filled. Instead of our pretty blond Romanian server, we got her brother but she did show up after to help.

I was talking to a local Harley rider out on the deck. We were talking about the roads, the weather (he was snowmobiling Memorial Day Weekend) and the countryside. He said it was a good thing we missed the hail storm on Wednesday. I informed him that if he heard about four bikes caught on the side of the road, it was us.

There was one crisis as I arrived at the restaurant. I went to turn Stella on to show Stewey some features and she wouldn't start. Nothing, nada, zip. Dead Zumo. Back at the motel, I tried everything in the manual to get it reset but the screen stayed blank. Then I tried a trick I heard about on Zumoforums.com. I borrowed an allen key from Gary and pulled the battery out. After reinstalling it, I held my breath and pushed the on button. She was back. I would be able to find my way home.

The rest of the evening was a little sad as people were saying goodbye. After years of doing this, we have developed a perspective that we realize that this is only a temporary parting. As Harry Chapin said in Circle:

It seems like I've been here before
I can't remember when
But I have this funny feeling
That we'll all be together again.
No straight lines make up my life
And all my roads have bends
There's no clear-cut beginnings
And so far no dead-ends.

I usually say "We'll see you down the road".

There were only a few still up when I set my watch alarm for 5:30 AM and hit the sack.

Hail Update

Just a brief correction. I said in the hail post that it was 4" deep. After consultation with other witnesses, it appears it was 6" to 8" deep where we rode through it.

Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

WWR Colorado Trip Day 7 - Around Grand Lake and Beyond

If you take a look at the post immediately below this, you can see pictures of some of the people who were wandering around today.

We were up by 6:00 AM and I spent the early time sorting some photos and getting some blog typed. Some days I have no time at all to get this done and I am currently about three days behind, but I do like to look back later on and see where I have been.

By 7:15, we had wiped the Colorado dew off the bikes and a few of us (Wonka, Carlene, Sherm, Normie and Biker) had settled in at the Fat Cat. Sally was busy baking but she did stop by to say hello. Sherm had Scotch eggs, which weren't on the menu but Sally had told us about them the day before. The girl serving us said that Sally's Hot Sauce wasn't for sale, but Sally gave Sherm a bottle when he mentioned how much he liked it.


After breakfast, we adjourned to the coffee shop to get Email and post whatever we had available. Got a note from Terry that he covered the 1,800 miles home in two days with one ticket. He didn't say how much over the limit. Then we headed back to the Bluebird where we saw clouds to the north, south and east. While others headed out for rides, we hung around, visited and typed some more blog entries. At noon, a truck showed up with a large awning, tables and chairs that Bucky had ordered from somewhere. We got them all set up quite quickly, although the 8,800 foot altitude of the Bird does slow one down a bit.

The riders wandered back in as the day went on, many wet and a few lucky ones dry. Bucky took Slammer and his little truck to pick up food she had ordered. The way she pulls all this together makes me think of loaves and fishes. Here she surveys the result of all her handiwork.

Right after supper, Slammer got a call from Toby. Their group had gone north through the National Park and then east and south. They were down on I-70 and a bike had gone down injuring the rider's ankle. The plan was that Slammer would hook the trailer he hauled out up to his SUV and drive the 50 or so miles over Berthoud Pass to get rider and bike. Sherm and I volunteered to go and help. Then the mission changed. Further calls revealed the bike wasn't damaged so we were going to take a rental car belonging to Rubbergator (Lisa) from PNW and we'd ride the bike back. I'd already volunteered so I couldn't back out now.

I drove the car with Slammer and Sherm south through Winter Park. Soon after we headed out, the rain started. Winding up through Berthoud, the rain continued and the temperature dropped. We passed Tobey and the gang on our way to the top as they tried to make the most of the dying light. They looked miserable and I wondered what I had gotten myself into as we crested the summit at 46F. Then it was down through more rain to I-70 where we found the Conoco station the bike and rider were at one exit down.

It turns out the casualty was Greg from Grande Prairie, Alberta. His ankle had been checked by EMT's who thought it was only badly sprained and he had it wrapped and iced. Lisa was also there and they all got Greg into the car while I suited up and fired up his 2005 1600 Nomad. I haven't ridden a Nad in three years, so it felt a little strange as we started out in the wet and, by now, almost dark. The levers weren't in the right spot for me, nor were the windshield and suspension. The levers would have been an easy fix if I had the presence of mind to check them before we set out, but I was stuck with the others.

A funny thing happened over the pass, though. While it rained all the way to the summit, it wasn't as intense as it had been. At the top, it stopped and just left me to contend with wet pavement on the downgrade hairpins. The long drops off the side didn't even bother me, although most did have guard rails. In Winter Park, where we stopped and I adjusted the levers, the roads dried and it warmed up so the rest of the ride back was quite enjoyable. The earlier gang had stayed wet almost all the way back, so I really caught a break from the weather gods. You can see Greg back at the public room at the Bluebird resting the ankle.

After hanging out for a bit and telling at least a dozen people that No, I wasn't going to switch back to a Nomad, I turned in at about 11:00.

WWR Colorado Trip Day 7 - Some People Pictures

These are some photos of the people who were at WWR on Friday.

Phin, Tobey, The Lovely Carlene and Willie Wonka behind Sandy at the Fat Cat Cafe

Biker and Abby Normal chow down at the Fat Cat

Don (VSP) napping in our room

John Hanneman, Solo and El Nomad checking out the finer points of a Nomad

Ed Wing, Marlene, Scotty, Bucky (Hail Mary), Sandy, Corvette and Sherm at the Bluebird

Slammer is looking pensive (or possibly stuffed)

Stewey playing with Sherm's new camera as he and John H. look on

Borys (aka Deerslayer) talking to Melanie and Jamey
This was Melanie's first trip on her now famous purple 500 Vulcan

Bucky pulled together shelter, tables, chairs and a meal out of thin air
Here Wonka and Carlene serve the masses

Don, a Kiwi traveling with Gavin The Eskimo is Jazzman's neighbor

WWR Colorado Trip Day 6 - So This Is Grand Lake

We were up at 5:30 and, as we were wiping the bike down, Sherm got some cleaner out to remove the blue ink from the inadvertent pen explosion. It came off just fine. The weatherman said that, after five weeks of perfect weekends, the trend was coming to an end and we could expect thunderstorms for the next few days.

Since we had to change hotels, we loaded the bikes up and headed to town where we heard there was a WiFi café. Sure enough, once we got through the first part of Grand Lake and got to the very pretty four block downtown, there it was. You can see that Sherm settled right in. Downtown Grand Lake looks very much like Jasper Alberta in my opinion.

Jim Ayers came in and said that the campground owner recommended the Fat Cat Café for breakfast so we moved down a couple of blocks and went in to see. The proprietor, a lady named Sally who came here from Lincolnshire, England twenty years ago, set a new standard for hospitality. In the picture, Sally is discussing breakfast with Jim, Sherm and Sandy. She creates many of her own recipes and they are excellent.

Back up at the Bluebird, people were starting to roll in from all over. After many greetings, we decided to go for a little ride. Sandy and I, Sherm, Jim Ayers, Bucky, Borys from Thunder Bay, Cheap Bastard and Mal and Yvette from Rifle Colorado set out south for a little hop. We fueled in Granby and then headed west on US 40 past Hot Sulphur Springs. As you leave the Springs, the road makes a left turn that ever seems to end and then proceeds to wind through a pretty little canyon carved by the Colorado River. The Mighty Colorado is pretty small way up here and you’d never suspect that this is what carved the Grand Canyon.

We had no traffic and ran a moderately quick pace through here with me leading, Sherm following and CB hard on our heels, pretty impressive considering he was on a Nomad. At the end of the canyon, we stopped and Sherm and I switched bikes for the return trip. He led and was off like a shot. There were several slow vehicles and we passed them in the short straights. After the run, Stella told me Sherm’s top speed was 95.5 MPH. I was very impressed with his tires. They are the same as mine except a stickier compound. I’d have them except that the price you pay for grip is longevity and I wouldn’t be able to afford to keep myself in rubber. Choices, choices.

Back in Granby, we stopped and switched back. Sherm says this little ride probably cost him $2,500 because he really liked the handling of the Traxxion and figures that he has to have it.

Back at the Bluebird, there were still more new arrivals. This is where the Kaw Pasture, AKA Reunion Headquarters, is located. You can see that the weather was changing. Mal told me that, in Colorado, if you don’t like the weather just wait five minutes. Rain hit shortly after this was taken.

About 5:30, we started to wander down to Pancho & Lefty’s restaurant in small groups. Eventually, we had about half the tables occupied by VROC. They had live entertainment but it pretty bad. Sandy and I skipped Mexican for chicken tenders and a hamburger, which were quite good. We had eight people at our table and they automatically added an 18% gratuity so we made sure to leave the exact amount of the bill The server would have made out better without doing this. It was also just one ticket, so Cathy from Greeley and I spent time working out who owed what.

At another table, I caught Chuck (PNW), Stockbridge Richard and Six Pack Jack from Georgia and Grumpa (PNW) in the midst of experiencing Pancho and Lefty’s. By the way, for those who are not Willie Nelson fans, the place is named after a song.

On the way out of town, we saw our long lost roommates Willie Wonka and the lovely Carlene. They rode their Wing in from Illinois. They followed us back to the Bird. The lot was full when we got there and we spent the rest of the evening watching a brilliant display of lightning on the horizon and mingling. Willie and I were about the last to turn in at midnight.

One note on the bikes. We had almost 15 Wings here, which show that VROC riding tastes are changing even while the socializing tastes remain the same. The Tupperware Brigade is growing rapidly and this should signal to Kawasaki that they are losing business by not having a full touring bike in their line-up.