I left New York City for Bronxville NY, about 20 miles north of my neighborhood, at about 9AM. Not the early start I had hoped for, but what the hell, I was on my way. Snaking my way through the tail end of rush-hour, I arrive a Bob's. I checked to make sure that my gear was securely fastened on the bike. Bob did a few last minute checks on his bike, secured his gear, sprayed his chain, pumped up his tires and we were off. 11AM, a beautiful day, the sun is shinin' and the Norton's are singin' that sweet song. Over the Tappan Zee Bridge and westward on 287. Bob is on his '73 Interstate, I'm on my '72 Interstate. And southwestward through New Jersey. On 287 we ran into quite a bit of construction, sometimes we could skirt it on one side, then lane split our way through. Sometimes the traffic would thin out and we could actually get speed up. The sun is getting hot, and we are both wearing leather jackets and leather gloves. We are starting to suffer when we have to dodge cars at such slow speeds.
We get off somewhere between Morristown and Parsippany. Rte. 202 to 523 was a fun bike road, quick and with only a few cars we relaxed for a while. We passed Norton New Jersey. And soon we were upon I-78. Through the rolling mountains of Pennsylvania, we headed for I-81. Getting off 81 in Hagerstown, Maryland, I was thinking of finding lodgings and a beer, as it was 6 PM.. Bob said he was not tired yet. I worried about Motel vacancies. The first motel had no vacancies, but called the next one in their chain, (Hampton Inn, clean a nice bed and pool, AAA discount) in the southerly direction, and we got a room in Martinsburg, WVA. The beer was a different story. The motel was in a large mall. In New York City, we don't have malls, and a beer joint, well an acceptable beer joint is only 1 - 2 blocks away, max, in any direction. I don't know but after we unloaded and fed and tied up the mounts for the night I felt like we walked well over a mile in this mall to find a restaurant that served liquor. Even if we did take a sight seeing detour through Sears. A few Pints, some shrimp and some beef at the Outback and we felt like we had a good day.
We get up early but laze through breakfast, check our chains, lube them, give the tires a bit of air, and pack up our gear and go. I-81 to Virginia, it's still cool, and the road is wide open. Not too many cars or trucks. It's turning into a great ride. The bikes are humming. We are trying to keep our speed around 70 to 75 mph. It is hard, the bikes want to run, to fly, to seek speed. We stop for gas, water and to find a place to stay around Wythesville, VA. In the gas station we attract the attention of 3 riders on cruiser's, a Harley, a Honda, and a Kawasaki. One guy says he almost bought one of "them" when they were new. It seems almost every gas stop brings admiring glances, mostly from other riders. Earlier a rider with a '70s Ducati paid homage. We liked his bike too. Staying at another Hampton, Bob stays they are kind of posh, but he's glad to rest his bones. The place has no bar or restaurant, but the place across the street does. We bring our stuff up to the room, head out for beer and food and they just closed 10 minutes ago. We walk to the truck stop, eat grumble and bring beer back to the room. We have finish another 300 + mile day. We are feeling good.
It's Friday, another beautiful day, and the plan is a simple one. We take 81 right into I - 40 through Tennessee past the Smoky Mountain National Park and south on I - 75 into North west Georgia. So it starts out. Blissfully eating up the miles. Ahead traffic is slowing down. Local traffic only. All traffic must exit. Signs, but no explanation . We exit. We stop for some water. Again some one approaches our bikes. He tells a tale of riding through Europe on a Triumph, his buddy on a Nort. What happened on the interstate we ask. Landslide, says he. Ahh, we say. We take the local detour and make our way west hoping to find a route south. A homey looking diner at the side of the road beckons us in. We go in burgers and some advice. Bob, flatterer that he is, declared the burger the best he ever had. The family that owned the place fell for it and gave us the low-down. Just kidding. Actually they were very nice and told us that the side of the mountain had given out and just fell down on the interstate. The state was trying to clear it but they would move a boulder the size of a bus and 2 more would fall and take its place. They could not keep up with mother nature. The bad news was to get to Hiawassee it seemed like the only way was through the center of the Smoky Mountain State Park, taking 441 (it ain't no Victor) from Gatlinsburg to Cherokee. It must have been 2.5 hours of going uphill behind RV's going 10 MPH, uphill with the brakes on. We choked on the brake material in the air. It seemed like it was 6 hours. Obviously avoid this route at all costs. Finally we break free and pick up 19 to 74. These are heaven sent roads. Fast, wide open and surrounded by wonderful mountains and valleys. Even when we rode through a fairly long sunshower, we were happy to be alone on the road. No traffic to speak of. Then it thins out. Not a car to be seen. Not a sign to be seen. We ride for another hour and a half. We have no land marks, no cross roads, just mountains, switch backs and long sweeping curves. Finally we spot a gas station on the opposite side of the road, up on its own little hill. They can see ya comin'. The driver of a pickup truck asks us "Are them bikes some kind of B Em Double Ya. I never heard of Norton." Good thing we stopped, and asked how far are we from Hiawassee and can we get a beer. The answer was 2 miles to Rte. 175 and no beer! We didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So we motored on for 2 miles, by the Smiths odometer. Made the left like the man at gas station said we should, and again, no signs. A passing motorist assured us that this was the turn we were looking for and in 5 minutes we were in Hiawassee, GA.
First order of business at the Rally site was to register, get a beer, then phone SWMBO. We had covered 970 miles in 3 days. It was about 6:30 and we were hungry and thirsty. More beer and time to renew old acquintances, explore the camp site, and set up our tents. More beer. Evening turned to night and the band took the stage. More beer. Rock, Blues and Blues Rock. Why do Norton riders and shop owners make such good music? More beer. I went to sleep a happy camper.
Saturday morning breakfast meeting more old and new friends and recovering from the night before, I am still a happy camper. We took the bike out for a well deserved wash and returned to park in the concourse. I lazed around all day, Bob advised someone on a MkIII teardown. The Awards dinner, hmm? Well, more beer filled the void. The awards were given out and hopefully we made Pete feel as appreciated as he really was.
Sue Ballard could not be there to get her share of the applause, for the years of service she put in. Bob won the "Oldest Rider on a Norton" award. Says he " I'm too young to be this old." more beer.
Sunday moring we pack up and hit the road, after a few good-byes. We did not see any evidence of a farewell breakfast, so we went off to eat, (more coffee). Took advantage of the scruptious breakfast buffet at the Georgia Mountian Restaurant. Said more good-byes, and headed out. Gassing up, we were asked, "Y'awl didn't ride them motorcycles all the way from New York?" "Yep" "That's a long ride" "Yep".
Now we were on our way home. From 76 east to 23-441 into North Carolina, we take 23 through the Cherokee National Forest, into Tennessee and a stop in Johnson City for a quick fish and chips. We pick up 181 and ride down to I - 81. Looking for a place to sleep in Bristol Bob says he remembers some nice quaint motels from previous trips. A lot of water under the bridge, eh. The places he remember are only memories now. So we tried a Motel 8. I asked for a non-smoking room. The young girl behind the counter was very obliging. I took the key and opened the door of the room, and there was a couple in the room. She did apolegize and said all that were left were smoking rooms. I checked one out. It smelled like old smoke, surprize surprize. But it was so bad, it was like it was never cleaned. After we reject another flea-bag, we find that there are only smoking rooms left at the La Quinta up the hill, so we took it, aired it out had beer and truck stop snacks, and slept like babies.
Up and at 'em after the continental breakfast, we ride up I - 81. Stopping for water, we draw the comments, "I almost bought one of those when they were new", from a couple of locals on a Gold Wing and BMW Tourer. It turns out one was a former trucker and gave us some tips to avoid construction and traffic on the road home. He also told us about this Eye-talian Restaurant that had the best food in the You-nited States. He highly recommended the Pot-Roast. Coming from a Italian family, I tended to doubt his evaluation of the best food in the country. As for recommending pot - roast in an Italian restaurant, well, I'll leave that to you. We did not find the fine restaurant, it was not where he said it would be, unless he meant this chain "Villa Roma". Not being hungry we passed on "Villa Roma", and headed back to 81.
After about a half an hour we notice some wicked lightning in the distance and decided to pull off for a while and check it out. Pulling into a truckstop with convenience store and McDonalds. Seconds after we pulled off the sky blackened and nature put on a brilliant light show. The electrical storm played havoc with the computers in the store and the power went out for few minutes. It was one incredable downpour. 2 hours later the sun was out and the road was drying up. Once again the road is pretty empty. Buchanan is our goal, it's drawing closer and closer. At Buchanan we pick up the Blue Ridge Parkway. OH MY GOD!!!! What a road. The switchbacks, the longsweepers to the right, left, and right again. The mountain on one side of you, the cliff on the other. The valley past the cliff and more mountains past the valley. You have so much to look at, but watch the road. We say maybe 3 or 4 cars the entire time we were on it. No cops, we stopped to help a young couple who had a bicycle with a broken chain. Pushing on more beautiful motorcycle road. Bob knew some really breathe taking places to stop and just take it all in.
As evening was approaching, we pulled off and stopped at Staunton VA. Where else could we stay but at the Shoney's Inn that was right at the exit. During the day I promised to buy Bob a martini at the end of the day's riding. We freshened up, and hiked over to the Steak House that was within sight. The martini's were not up to our standard. Having been a bartender to some of the most demanding drinkers in the world, I proceded to give her advice as how to make a proper martini. She never heard of such a thing and "has been bartending for 8 years". Oh Youth. after 2 drinks we went to a table and had dinner and more drinks. Life is good when you can put 300 + miles on your Norton, a day, day after day.
The next was a superslab day, the last push home. 81 through Virginia and to I - 78 in Pennsylvania. From there it is a straight run to New York City. At about a half hour out I could see the Skyscrapers greeting me from the distance. New York, New York. It's home to me and it was good to be back, but the trip was far too short. Tuesday, Today I covered almost 400 miles. A trouble free 1,912 miles in six days. Yes, life is good.
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