Road King Blog

Woke up in the morning to find that it had recently rained, and everything was quite wet. Rode over to the diner we missed the previous day for breakfast.  I found I was pretty uncomfortable riding in the wet, which I suspect is simply based on a lack of experience in doing so.

Fortunately, as we ate breakfast and then walked over to Starbucks to feed Sean’s near-Betty-Ford-level addiction to espresso, things dried up.  And with that, we were off to Virginia, and the Udvar - Hazy center which is perched on the southernmost part of the Dulles Airport grounds.  They have an excellent collection of aircraft both military and civilian spanning the history of flight.  The collection is dominated by two attractions, though.  A Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird reconnaissance aircraft, and the Space Shuttle Enterprise.

A product of the heady days of the Cold War reconnaissance race, the SR-71 was developed by the famous Skunk Works at Lockheed.  The Blackbird is almost universally accepted as the most successful reconnaissance aircraft in history, operating with impunity all over the globe.  The SR-71 A on display at the center set a record on her final flight, traveling from Los Angeles to Washington DC in 1 hour and 4 minutes.  Just another day at the office for the mighty Blackbird.

The Enterprise was the first of the Shuttles, and was used as an atmospheric flight testbed.  Although she never flew in space, Enterprise was a key part of the Shuttle program, which represents the pinnacle of mankind’s quest to explore space.  Although she completed her testing role in the 1980s, Enterprise had a role to play in the investigation of the tragic loss of the Space Shuttle Columbia in 2003.  On February 1, 2003, the Columbia was lost on re-entry during STS-107, killing all 7 aboard.  During the subsequent investigation, it was discovered that the leading edge of the wing had been damaged on launch, resulting in a failure of the heat shield and catastrophic damage to the spacecraft.  As a part of the investigation, sections of the leading edges of the Enterprise’s wings were removed for testing.  For a long time, there were large green panels over the gaps where the leading edge segments were removed.  The leading edges have been re-constructed now, and Enterprise sits as she was at the end of her flight career.

The ride out to the museum was pretty good, save for the portion on Route 66 in Virginia.  Route 66 in this area is concrete, with irregular scars and lots of seams between lanes.  It’s rough, and densely populated.  We decided to seek another path back.

After we concluded our visit to the center, which includes a superb gift shop with a great selection of books related to civil and military aviation, we headed back toward Fairfax to visit the National Firearms Museum at the headquarters of the National Rifle Association.  This museum has an astounding collection of firearms from the first matchlock muskets to the very latest in modern small arms.  We strolled through the collection and spotted a few firearms we had never seen before, including a prototype semi-auto rifle in .303 British from WWII.

We decided it was time to head back up the road to the hotel, and I consulted the iPhone maps application for a routing plan.  We ended up riding along Vale Road, which was absolutely amazing.  Windy, hilly and lightly travelled, Vale meanders to the Northeast past a variety of enormous, multi-million dollar homes.  We rode along the hills and curves, eventually connecting with Route 123, which brought us north through Vienna (land of 1,000 speed traps) back to the beltway and up the super-slab to the hotel.

We grabbed some dinner and rolled over to Borders to sit and write a bit, enjoying a beverage on the outdoor terrace and soaking in the cool evening breeze.

Following Borders, we decided to ride around some of the old neighborhoods and haunts as night fell, working out way generally toward the hotel.  We had big plans for the next day, so it was time to turn in for some rest.

Woke early and headed out with Sean to obtain some breakfast.  Too early, in fact, for the diner Sean had selected for breakfast - they weren’t open.  So we diverted to the old standby IHOP, and took on some food.

Following breakfast, we headed out to ride some more in the area and visit the rest of the locations where we used to live / work / hang out / run amok.  Not much has changed in the old neighborhoods, and it was interesting to see that some of the landscaping Lisa and I did on the townhouse we owned in Gaithersburg was still in place.

And then, while riding the area, Sean happened to notice that a gate into an area we used to visit in high school was open….

Some explanation is necessary here.  When we were in high school, there was an abandoned Nike missile site off one of the back roads a short drive away from our neighborhoods.  The site was accessible via numerous holes in the fencing, and we made many less-than-sanctioned visits to the facility.

At the time, we were all into the Cold War history to some level, and we were aware of the historical significance of the site.  We didn’t go in there to vandalize the place or steal any items, but to investigate and understand what the facility must have been like during that time.  Back then, there were still several buildings on the grounds, as well as a trio of underground facilities for storing, loading and launching the Nike missiles.  The buildings were filled with debris, but were still painted in the unit livery, with the unit insignia still visible in faded paint on the side of the larger building.  We would go into the site and into the underground facilities and catalog the remaining items, trying to understand the function of the site and how the crews worked onsite.  At that time, there was a little bit of graffiti on the site, and some minor damage, but overall the site was pretty well preserved.  Apart from the #3 underground facility, which was nearly always flooded, that is.

Move forward 25 years.  The site is next to a National Guard facility, but is separately fenced (and all the fencing is unmarked).  The gate was wide open, so we rode in to look around a bit.  What we found was distressing.

The buildings have been razed, and the remains removed.  The underground facilities were secured with steel bars and locks on the doors.  I saw were, because the doors have been broken open except for the #1 hangar, which had heavy angle iron welded over the doors.  Inside, there is trash, tons of graffiti, and numerous piles of miscellaneous burned materials torn off the walls.  An important, irreplaceable piece of history trashed.

We took a few pictures and carefully made our way out of the facility.

Seeking something to raise the spirits a bit, we rode over to the local Harley dealer to check out their t-shirt offerings (which we ended up purchasing).  One of the employees there, upon learning we were visiting from Canada and Florida, offered to rent us a couple of bikes.  ”No thanks, we brought our own :)”.

From there, we headed out to the northwest to visit Sugarloaf mountain, with the intent of getting some shots of us and the bikes with the sweeping panoramas of the area in the background.

Which brought me to a new riding experience - hills.

We don’t have hills in Florida.  It’s flat.

We have hills in Maryland, and twisty roads going over them.  Takes a bit of getting used to with the way it changes the sight lines for the curves.  As I remarked to Sean at a stop sign, “these hills are messing up my Chi”.

We rumbled through the countryside, up and down the hills, out to Sugarloaf.  Which is when we discovered that the folks who administer Sugarloaf don’t like bikers, and don’t permit motorcycles on the mountain roads.

So we decided to head back toward the hotel and drop in on Dave.  Dave knew as soon as he heard Sean’s Vance & Hines pipes that we had arrived.  We hung out with Dave and Kathy and their two children for a bit, and after making plans for dinner we headed back to the hotel to get changed / refreshed.

During dinner (at a nice Italian restaurant in Germantown), Sean took his turn as storyteller, regaling Dave’s 4 year old daughter with tales of Taliban and of the brave knight who captures the monster Saddam Hussein, all in the manner of a fairy tale.  At the conclusion of the second tale, Dave chimes in as the announcer - “Next on Sean’s Playhouse, why your jihadi mommy won’t be coming home tonight…”  We pretty much lost it at that point.  We said our farewells, and headed back to the hotel.

Around 0230, some nitwit pulled the fire alarm.  I postulated to Sean that this behavior is indicative of latent homosexuality with a fireman fetish.

Having been blessed with clear signals all the way up the coast, we had arrived an hour early in Lorton, VA at the Amtrak terminal.  We disembarked the rail cars, and moved in herd-like formation to the vehicle pickup area.  The eight of us on two-wheeled vehicles walked across the lot to the ramp where the bikes would be off-loaded.  Soon enough, we saw the train of bike sleds being pulled off the transport car.

The Road King was on the second set of sleds to be off-loaded, so I went over and began to stow the bags on the bike for the trip up.  This was when I noticed that somehow, Amtrak has managed to break the antenna for my APRS beacon.  I asked one of the Amtrak staff to call over a manager, and he made quick work of completing a claim form and giving me the info I would need to get reimbursed for the damaged antenna and mount.

I then called Sean, who was already checked into the hotel we were planning to use as a base of operations in Gaithersburg.  He proposed meeting me in Tyson’s corner at the Silver Diner (Sean has a diner fetish, as you’ll see in subsequent entries).  I was more than happy to agree, and I headed out to meet him.  Fortunately, it is an easy routing from the station to I-95 - their driveway comes out right at the on-ramps.  So up onto I-95 I went, and as quickly re-introduced to the joys of DC area traffic.  After navigating one of the most complex, confusing highway interchanges known to man (the perpetually under construction I-95 / 395 / 495 interchange), I was on the Inner loop of the capitol beltway and headed north.  Directly into a huge construction backup from roadwork at the I-495 / Route 50 interchange.  For once, I can’t really blame the ensuing CF on the drivers on the road - the VDOT folks had cleverly put up “left lane closed ahead” signage, but had failed to cover up the pre-existing “stay in lane” signs between the lane closure signs.  So many of the drivers stayed in their lane all the way to the barricades closing it off.  Complete mess.

After escaping that disaster, I slipped off 495 onto Route 7 and looped around the mall to the Diner.  There in the lot was Sean’s ‘07 Softtail Heritage Classic - a welcome sight indeed!

A quick snack and drink later, we were off up the beltway to Gaithersburg to get checked into the hotel.

After check-in, we did a little riding in the immediate area, revisiting the neighborhoods where we and our comrades used to live.  We even dropped in on an old friend, who at first didn’t recognize either of us. Good times.

After some general catching up, we rolled back to the hotel, ordered some ‘za, and relaxed for the remainder.  Caught up on some much needed sleep.

Over the past couple of weeks, Sean and I had been discussing the possibility of meeting up and doing some riding.  He was headed down to the Maryland / DC area for business.  So I decided to head up and meet him for a week or so.  Given the short time I had available, it seemed the most efficient way to meet up would be to take the Amtrak Auto-Train up to DC, turning what would be a 2-3 day ride into an overnight trip.

So I packed up the bike, and then went for a test-ride to make sure the bags would stay where they were put and the bike would not be upset by the way the bags were loaded.  Everything seemed properly, and I was ready to go.

Around 1100, I headed out for Sanford, and just beat a pretty good size storm in.  Strong, gusty winds were moving into the area, making for some interesting riding, particularly across the exposed, hump style bridge over the railroad tracks.

Speaking of railroad tracks, the entrance to the station crosses several sets of tracks, at a variety of odd angles.  Makes for a bit of a challenging bike ride.

The bike was loaded onto an aluminum sled, and the sleds were then loaded into the auto carrier.  For our trip up, there were a total of 288 vehicles on the train - 280 cages and 8 bikes.  There were a couple Hondas, a handful of Harleys and a sportbike.  Once the bikes were loaded onto the sleds and strapped down, it was time to await the boarding call for the train.

Once the call was given, we all queued up at our various rail cars and shuffled aboard.

By the way, shuffled is a very apropos term.  The majority of my fellow passengers were on the high side of 70, it seemed.  Sort of a fountain of youth by association setup…..

Onboard, the accommodations were acceptable, if somewhat austere.  I was in a coach class seat, which was comparable to a first-class seat on an airliner.  I was in the front row, which offered an expanse of legroom.  Above the seats are generous luggage racks, with sufficient room for my carry on bag.  I surreptitiously  ran a cable lock around my backpack, and through a couple of the mounting point straps and locked it to one of the metal poles holding up the luggage deck.

After getting settled in, it was time for dinner.  I had selected the early dinner seating, and walked back to the dining car for some food.  Dinner was a braised beef with potatoes and veggies (steamed carrots.  Yak.)  Overall the food was good, but no spectacular.

Following dinner, I retired to my seat to get settled in and read for a while.  Sleep was sporadic, owing to the movement of the train and the frequent passage of people through the doors separating the cars.  Each time the door was opened, the rather bright light in the space between the cars was exposed, which was not conducive to sleep.

Around 0630, I gave up on sleep, and headed back for the continental breakfast in the dining car.  Cereal, some juice and a bagel combined to get the day started, along with some pretty heinous coffee.  Welcome to Friday, and welcome to Virginia.  We were rolling through Richmond as we ate, and ended up arriving about an hour ahead of schedule.  After 17 hours on the train, getting off the train was a rather attractive prospect.

To be continued…..

Tis the late spring, when Plecia nearctica’s fancy turns to love. Known colloquially as the Love Bug, this omnipresent fly plagues Florida in late May and in September. They get their name from the habit of attaching to one another during their mating seasons and then flying about in tandem. The larger female tows the male around randomly until they manage to find a convenient windshield to splatter on like tiny fireworks.

After they sit for an hour or so, they become quite sticky, and are a royal pain in the tail to remove from windscreens, headlights, passing lights, turn signals, forks, boots, crash bars, etc.

Oh, and helmets. Makes me very, very glad I wear a full-face lid.

To make an already fun situation even more enjoyable, dried love bugs stink. Just a little added bonus for the task of removing them.

I just think of it as the small price we pay for year-round riding.

Rode to the Florida National Cemetery in Bushnell for a Patriot Guard Riders mission.  About 100 miles each way, give or take.

About 20 of us showed up from all parts of Floirda to honor a soldier at his memorial.  It doesn’t matter what war or wars he fought in, all that matters is that he was a man who stood for his country.  And the PGR was proud to stand for him at his family’s request.

I arrived in the area a bit early, and stopped into Steak and Shake for a quick bite before riding the last 20 miles to the cemetery.  The cemetery itself is a large, lush plot of land, immaculately maintained by the staff and a cadre of volunteers.  It is a truly beautiful place.

I arrived and located one of the PGR riders near the welcome center, a gentleman by the name of Terry.  Terry pointed me in the direction of the staging area, and I headed over and parked in a line of bikes.  After a while waiting and shooting the breeze while more riders trickled in, we held a quick briefing and rode en masse from the staging area to the location of the memorial service.  Located throughout the FNC are memorial pavilions where final services are held for the departed service member.  It was here that we formed a flag line, lining both sides of the walkway from the roadside to the pavilion.  A military honor guard arrived for the service, and we waited quietly for the casket and family to arrive.

We remained standing in quiet respect along the walkway as the procession moved from the roadside to the pavilion, the only sounds being the click of the honor guards’ shoes on the concrete and the slight rustle  Florida breeze fluffed the American flags we each carried.  We remained alongside the walkway through the brief service, which culminated with a rifle salute and the traditional playing of taps on a lone bugle.  The family then returned to their vehicles, with the soldier’s son and wife stopping along the walkway to thank each of us individually for being there.  When the wife got to my, she took my hand and thanked me for honoring her husband by coming.  I told her that the honor was mine, and thanked her for inviting us.

As I packed up to depart for the ride home, Terry come over to me and handed me a pin.  This was my first funeral detail with the PGR (which the PGR fittingly calls Honor Missions), and PGR tradition is that a member is given a pin on completion of their first Honor Mission.  I’ll treasure it always, as a memento of fellowship with these fine men and women, united for a great cause.

Went out to run a few errands.  The store I was headed to was closed when I got there, so I decided to wander a bit….

And came home 125 miles later.

Apart from a brief rain shower, it was a nice day for a ride.

OK, not really.  But I did add something to the bike today to repel unwanted visitors approaching from astern:  The BAL-1 from Bright Ass Lights.

Mine is set to the Alert / Steady mode.  Actuating the brakes causes the tail light to emit a string of bright flashes followed by a steady, bright brake light.  It’s much brighter than the stock incandescent light assembly, and provides the added punch of the flash.

Rode around for a couple hours to see how my wrist would take it.  So far, so good.  The new gloves seem to help.

Noticed a problem with the rear tire not holding air pressure. Not having the equipment or expertise to remove the rear wheel, there was no option. Off to the dealer we go.

Where they found a great big freakin screw in the rear tire.

Fortunately, when I bought the extended warranty plan with the bike, I checked the “tire and wheel coverage” box. One rear tire (and an hour of shop labor to change it) and I was back on the road.

Total cost: $0.00
Having a safe rear tire: Priceless

Some things, money can buy. For everything else, there’s Harley Davidson warranty work.