I woke up early Thursday and lay in bed. The window was open and it was cold in the room. I listened to the wind whipping outside and imagined how windy it must be on the Potomac River bridge. I heard a flock of geese calling as they flew overhead. Heading south, I was sure, since they are the smart ones. My bag was packed, and my plan was to hop on the motorcycle and head for the hills one more time this season, and return the next day. What was I thinking? I would probably freeze my butt off, riding for hours just to get to the fun roads. I would give up two days that I could spend fixing the truck, painting the fence, or doing any of a hundred other jobs. I would set a poor example for my kids. I would be Dad, the weird guy who leaves his responsibilities behind to ride into the hills again, alone. My plan made no sense. I got out of bed, put my gear on, and loaded the bike.
The morning star greeted me as I rolled east for a mile before turning Northwest. It was a clear morning, and I didn't have to battle with a fogged visor. After turning south on 301, I remembered to stop and get a photo with the T-rex, an opportunity I missed last time. The other thing I remembered this time was my transponder, which was packed in my bag and would save me a buck fifty on the bridge if it worked.
I rolled over the bridge and the wind was no concern at all. The sun was up now, and it reflected in the mirrors. I was happy for the sunshine, as it was a cool morning. I had extra layers on top and bottom. I took the curvy road to Fredericksburg and stopped at the same bakery as last time. After one savory and one sweet croissant, and a cup of coffee, I continued west.
This time I went through Culpepper, avoiding the main road by taking a parallel street. I rolled through Sperryville and stopped for a break in Luray. I bought a cup of coffee in a shop called Broad Porch. It doesn't actually have a porch at all, but it has a small deck in the back overlooking the creek that runs through town. I relaxed and took a long phone call. That delayed my trip a bit, but the great thing about having no real destination or schedule is that you're never really lost or late.
I took 675 out of town, keen to try a new route over the next two ridges. The road condition was decent. At the top of the first ridge there appeared to be a scenic view, but cars were parked too tightly to fit a motorcycle in between, so I rolled on. I passed through Edinburg and found myself behind a truck full of USDA-approved cluckers stacked to thirteen-nine. Fortunately this wasn't Wolf Creek Pass and the truck turned off without incident.
After the next ridge I cruised into Wardensville, taking a couple of minutes to check out the town before exiting westward. An old man walking on the sidewalk gave me a thumbs up. On 48 west of town, the road turned into a four-lane divided highway. I stopped at a place labeled "scenic view," thinking I had not taken many photos so far. But it was less scenic than everything else I had seen that day, so I departed without even putting my feet down.
I grabbed a milkshake in Moorefield and moved on through Parkersburg, where I had stayed overnight on a trip last March. South on 28 past a bunch of cabins and lodges on a fly-fishing river, then right at Yokum's and on to Elkins via 33. I stopped at Elkins to call a couple hotels in Sutton, because I did not want to venture that far and find nothing available. Good thing I called, because nothing was available.
I decided Buckhannon, WV would be my destination and I rode 48 there. I found myself somewhat unenthusiastic at the end of the day. Perhaps finishing the ride on a long stretch of divided highway, and finding the hills dully colored in mid-October was not what I had envisioned. I thought, what am I doing here? Maybe I am just wasting my time. But my attitude was remediated after I found a clean hotel, a tasty dinner, and a beer. When the hotel clerk heard that I was motorcycling for no good reason, he recommended I take 20 south in the morning, which was already my plan.
In Buckhannon, the DQ is closed in October.
I woke early the next morning. I realized I hadn't checked my tire pressures before the trip, so I went out and found them 4-5 psi low. I wiped the dew off the bike and actually took the seat back into my room so it wouldn't get wet again while I suited up. I aired up the tires before leaving town, paying for air for the first time in my life.
I was surprised to hit a little traffic leaving town, but I shouldn't have been. I had forgotten that some people have to go to work and school on Friday. I passed a place called the Clutter funeral home. It struck me that funeral homes always have the oddest names, my personal favorite being the Nash and Slaw funeral home in VA. South of town I saw a sign that said Adrian Water Board. I don't normally go in for torture, so I continued south.
The traffic thinned and the road improved, just as the clerk had predicted. Two or three times I caught up to a rig pulling a construction machine, and stopped for a minute to create some space between us. It was a good morning. It was very cool at only 43 deg F, but I was bundled up and riding a nice road. When the sun broke through it was glorious, although I occasionally had to slow down due to the strobing of the sun through the trees.
After an hour and a half of enjoyable riding, I arrived at Webster Springs. I parked at Vicki's (Vickie's?) and when I opened the door, every face turned toward me and every conversation stopped. There was no "Please seat yourself" sign, but eventually I did so out of sheer awkwardness. A woman eventually brought me a menu and I asked for coffee. I had a breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and a large biscuit with butter and jam. She refilled my mug two or three times with that weakish coffee that places used to serve. My total bill with tax came to $9.01. I paid in cash and she gave me the penny. I checked the calendar on the way out to make sure it wasn't 1985. I'll definitely be back.
Outside as I suited up, one of the locals recommended a particular route past Snowshoe, and it was the exact route I had in mind. I zipped out 15, then 219, and 66. The sun was shining, the roads were perfect, and I was enjoying the extra measure of confidence in the turns that I can never quite reach on the first day. Whatever doubts I had the day before about wasting my time had long since vanished. It was a beautiful morning in a great place, and I was riding.
When I rode into Cass, I found an arrangement of old white wooden homes lining both sides of the street, all of them identical and joined by wooden sidewalks.
I saw plumes of black smoke ahead and wondered if someone was burning tires. As I got closer, I was stunned to see that the smoke was coming from two steam engines preparing to leave a station. I hopped off for a closer look just in time to watch them depart.
I'm not sure how to embed the videos, but here is a link:
https://imgur.com/a/kiFip4P
As I got back on the bike, the engines let out a prolonged whistle with full steam, a soul-stirring sound. I continued north on 92 and spied a huge radio telescope of the Green Bank Observatory.
Random WV question 1: What is this?
Random WV question 2: Why do so many folks have an IBC tote sitting by the road near their driveway? Sometimes with the top cut off, sometimes not. I must have passed over a hundred of them.
Back to our adventure: Then I took 28 north and 33 east. I rested briefly at the Brandywine General Store and had a cup of coffee. It was afternoon, but as on the previous day, I elected not to remove any layers. I only switched out my cold weather gloves for regular gloves. I continued east on 33 through Harrisonburg.
Past Stanardsville I found a nice motorcycle road to avoid the highway. It ran through Scuffletown and joined 20 west of Orange.
East of Orange I took a road which bypassed Wilderness, but it was afternoon and traffic turned out bad. I ended up in crawling traffic with no room to pass on either side. I turned the motor off on the downhill part. Traffic cleared finally after I passed a four-way stop.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, and I arrived home an hour after sunset. The two-day trip was over 700 miles, and the bike was flawless. I'm eager to go again, but I think my next multi-day trip will probably not happen until the spring. Thanks for reading, you've been very patient if you made it this far!
Search
Member List
Calendar
Help
![[Image: V7SFJog.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/V7SFJog.jpg)
![[Image: Mb4r9gh.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/Mb4r9gh.jpg)
